Ninguna Abandonado
by orangetails
Summary: *SEASON 9 SPOILER* My take on what happens after the S9 cliffhanger in Mexico... Whole team, with a strong (you guessed it!) Callen slant... Now finished ready for Season 10 - and Epilogue added!
1. Chapter 1

_One of my new stories! Apologies to those reading A Promise Made - I will finish it (I promise ;-) ) This one has been started for a couple of weeks, and I really want to finish it before it's too late and the new season actually starts lol :-)_

 _The title translates as No One/None Abandoned, which was as close to the Seal motto 'Leave no one behind' as I could get :-)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

Heat.

Flames.

Smoke.

Noise and smell and fire and flames and burning.

Disorientated but nonetheless with a crippling feeling of urgency, Callen opened his eyes, and in a kaleidoscopic flash, despite the pounding in his head, it all came flooding back.

The car.

The rocket.

The car was on fire, and they were all still in there.

He yelled, not sure what he was saying. Yelled at his team mates to wake up, to wake the hell up and get out of there. The car was on its side and Sam, oh God, Sam, was below him.

He heard Kensi yelling too, yelling for Deeks. She was alive, thank God, she was alive. He shouted her name, and she turned to him, and the relief that crossed her face, the staunch belief that now he was in control they'd all be okay, churned his stomach.

"Callen!" she gasped. "You've got to help me! Help me get him out of here!"

Callen was trying. He hurt, damn he hurt. He could hear Sam groaning too, and thanked the fates for it, for Deeks' silence was far more ominous. Scrabbling, coughing, ignoring the pain in his left arm and leg, Callen fought his way to the back of the car, and, relieved, he could feel Sam below him trying to do the same.

"Sam!" he coughed, and they looked at each other for the briefest of seconds, reflected flames dancing in their eyes along with the burning relief that they were both still alive, though if the car wasn't soon to become a private crematorium, they needed to get out like five minutes ago. They both used the butts of their assault rifles on what was left of the back windscreen, and it wasn't enough but with the flames building thick and fast around them it would have to do.

"Kens!" Sam choked. "Get his seatbelt undone!"

Kensi was already working on it, fumbling in the smoke. "He's free!" she coughed, trying not to sob. This couldn't be it, this couldn't, couldn't be it. Deeks hadn't even wanted to come, he'd only come for her. He was only there for her…

"KENSI!" Callen yelled, roughly, snapping her back to attention. "We'll get him, get the hell out!" He pushed her fumbling hands away, pushed her away from Deeks, and she knew he was right and she had to try to get out herself but she wanted to fight against him, wanted to stay with Deeks… She could see Sam already with his arms under Deeks' shoulders, and she had to obey, had to trust her team…. Leave no one behind. Callen was helping Sam, pulling Deeks hard to the back of the truck and the broken window they could all escape from if only they had time before the flames engulfed them all. Time, dear lord give them time.

Callen's relief that Deeks was free quickly turned to panic again as he realised that Kensi wasn't with them, but Deeks was still making no effort to help himself. Quickly he helped Sam, and between the two of them, grunting, sweating, they dragged the unconscious detective with them, hampered by the seats, by the smoke, catching themselves on broken glass, but finally, finally, they were out of the burning car.

 _NCIS:LA_

Sam collapsed to the ground, Deeks almost on top of him. Callen stood over them breathlessly. Their survival could not yet be taken for granted in this hostile land with enemies still close by. He knew they were running out of time, and he still needed to help Kensi…. Where was she? He glanced back at the car but the smoke was too thick to see what was happening. He started to go back when he heard Deeks moaning, just about conscious. Apart from bleeding scratches on his face and arms he looked relatively unscathed. His moaning turned into incoherent words and he opened his eyes, immediately trying to sit up, but Sam had his hand on one shoulder and was telling him urgently to lie still, they didn't know if he was injured, he had to stay still…

"For God's sake," Deeks said crossly, his voice quiet but lucid. "I banged my head. I'm seeing stars amidst this firework spectacular, but I'm fine, let me sit up." And they would have both laughed at his tirade if it hadn't been, if it wasn't all so deadly serious. Sam took his hands off Deeks, and they sat together on the ground, coughing, gasping, but they had no time to rest.

"You need to move," Callen ordered. "That way." He pointed to the scrub behind them. "The General and his men… we haven't got long."

"Kensi?" Deeks choked, his lungs full of smoke. "Where's Kensi, we gotta get her…" He was trying to stand up but he swayed and would have collapsed if Sam hadn't firmly grabbed him.

"Well this just keeps getting better," Sam muttered darkly.

"Can you move?" Callen asked him, urgently. "You need to move." He felt like a stuck record, the needle bouncing urgently in the same groove, making a noise no one wanted to hear.

Without speaking, Sam clambered stiffly to his feet. A growing red stain on his trousers indicated where the tossing of the car had re-opened his stitches, and he pressed both hands over the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding. He wouldn't meet Callen's eyes. He knew he couldn't move far, not until he was able to sort his leg out, and moving would only make the bleeding worse. On top of that, he had a blinding headache from hitting his head on the side of the car when it had bounced over onto his side, and like the others he was covered in small cuts and abrasions from their desperate escape from the burning vehicle. His cammo gear had offered a degree of protection both from the broken glass and the flames, but some of the skin on the back of his hands felt singed.

"Dammit, Sam, you shouldn't have come!" Callen spoke in a low voice, guilt and pain making him cross.

"We need to get Kensi."

"I will go and get Kensi," Callen said with emphasis. "You two, you're both injured. Get the hell out of here. That's an order. We'll be right behind you." And giving them no time to argue, Callen spun on his heel and limped back to the car. Leave no one behind. He would save the others if it killed him.

 _NCIS:LA_

It was just as hot.

The flames were just as big.

The smoke blinded his vision and choked his lungs.

"Kens!" he yelled, trying desperately to see her.

"I'm okay!" he heard her shout back. "I need a knife!"

Callen dove into the back of the car again to see Kensi still struggling to get out of her seat belt. He scrabbled frantically in the flame engulfed trunk, pulling out a pack which turned out to be the first aid kit, and emptying the contents desperately he found a folding knife. He passed it quickly to Kensi and she sliced through the belt and took his offered arm to help drag herself through the awkward gap between the front seats, and all around the flames roared and the smoke choked them and made it impossible to see and Callen shunted backwards the way he had come, out of the broken back window. They'd barely hit the dirt when he heard an ominous crack and he quickly flipped over to shield Kensi underneath him as the flames reached the fuel tank and exploded, tossing the car once more up into the air. They both scuffled away, keeping low to the ground below the smoke, too stunned anyway from the explosion to get up and run.

"That will… buy us some time…" Callen coughed, anxiously scanning eyes over Kensi to see if she had been hurt, and hugging his injured arm to his chest as they crawled behind a bush and lay there, panting.

"Deeks?" Kensi said with panic in her eyes as well as her voice.

"With Sam. He's okay. They're both okay."

They didn't have time to talk more. The shouts of the General and his men were getting closer.

"Hide!" Callen ordered, still coughing. They were both covered in smoke, dust and debris from the final explosion. Kensi's hair had been singed and she had a long bleeding cut on her bare forearm. He didn't have time to assess the rest of her, but he trusted her skills and tenacity to survive.

"Callen… wait! Where are you going?" Kensi gasped.

"I'll… draw them this way. Go now! I'll distract them and skirt round to meet you."

Helplessly, trying not to feel scared and alone, Kensi did as he ordered, crawling commando-style on her stomach in the direction Callen had pointed, while he skirted away in the other. He was limping, she noticed, and though her mind was still full of Deeks, the intensity of her thoughts almost paralysing her, she found herself saying a silent prayer for Callen as well… For Deeks, for herself, for Sam and Callen. For all of them to get out of this mission, that had been cursed from the start, alive.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the positive reviews on my first chapter. I will be honest... it's been extremely tempting for the past couple of weeks to wrap this story up with a re-hashed second chapter and just leave it as a quick two-parter, or even edit it into a one-shot, instead of the long multi-chapter story that is well underway... I'm a bit scared of where I'm taking it and I really hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew...!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

Callen moved quickly, making no effort to hide his trail. Adrenaline fuelled his speed and he clumsily allowed stones and twigs to fall noisily as he made his way through the scrub in the opposite direction to that which he'd sent his team. Keeping low to the ground, he didn't give the General's men the chance to spot him but hoped nonetheless it would be clear where he had gone. Though he was getting further from the site of the burning car, he could still hear the men behind him and trusted that meant they were following in his direction and not that of the others.

When he estimated he had covered about a mile, he snapped some branches of a bush growing at the top of a steep drop and pushed a small log over the edge, pausing briefly to watch with satisfaction as it bumped its way down the steep gully. With any luck, the General's men would see the damage and assume he had slithered down to the bottom. He hoped that would buy him the time he needed. Turning, he paid careful attention to picking his way through the scrub in the opposite direction, in an arc he estimated would bring him back towards where Sam and the others had headed. He didn't have the same wilderness training that Sam had as a Seal, but he felt fairly confident only a very experienced tracker would have been able to follow his new heading, and the fading light could only help him in that regard.

After a while, he allowed himself a short rest. His leg and his arm were paining him a great deal, and though he wanted to reconvene with the others as quickly as possible he knew he would travel quicker if he took a brief pause to catch his breath. He sank wearily to the ground, appreciating the respite it gave his injured leg. As his adrenaline faded, his pain levels rose and his focus started to wander. Before he could stop himself, his thoughts turned to Sam and his team. He hoped they had made it safely away. In the still of the evening air, he could hear that the General's men had withdrawn; their occasional shouts were getting quieter as they returned to their base. It was too much to hope that they had given up the search completely, but he prayed it meant his team had the night to put some ground between them. It could mean the difference between life and death for them all.

 _NCIS:LA_

Kensi crawled as quickly as she could in the direction Callen had sent her. She hated leaving him, but she trusted he would be true to his word and re-join them soon. And then they could plan. They would get out of this, they had to. They wouldn't all die here, not like this. She moved silently, on high alert. She heard the noise of the General's men getting further away, meaning they had fallen for Callen's ruse and were tracking him, not her. She hoped that would last and they didn't decide to fan out, at least not until she had found Sam and Deeks. Although incredibly after their frantic escape from the car she still had her gun tucked into her waistband, she only had a few bullets left and she felt vulnerable out on her own. There was safety in numbers, and she longed for the safety of her team. They would get out of this together, like they always did. She felt a desperate surge of relief run through her when at last she spotted Sam and Deeks not far ahead.

The two men hadn't got far. She worried about their state of health when she was almost on top of them before they heard her approach. She called out quietly as they spun towards her, reassuring them it was only her.

"Kens! Thank God!" Deeks couldn't hide his relief at seeing her. She felt a strange turning in her stomach as they made eye contact, but she was comforted to see him too, and Sam. Neither of them looked good, but then, she probably didn't herself.

"Where's Callen?" Sam demanded urgently, looking beyond Kensi for his partner and friend.

"He's leading them off the other way. He'll meet us," she answered, not missing how Sam's expression darkened. "We need to keep moving, he's expecting us to keep moving," she said, and reluctantly, knowing she was right, Sam continued to lead them on.

 _NCIS:LA_

The going was tough. Kensi and Deeks were quiet, their emotional turmoil almost palpable in the air. Kensi was fighting back tears. The three of them joining together only made Callen's absence all the more noticeable. She loved Callen like an older brother, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. If only she'd meshed the gears, got the car into reverse quicker, got them out of this awful situation. She could have done it, if only she'd been quicker… She should have been quicker. Callen's urgent words to her to "Get us out of here!" in the car echoed repeatedly in her ears and she choked on a sob, causing Deeks to stop and stare at her worriedly but she shook her head and carried on walking.

"Stop," Sam eventually grunted, and ahead of him Kensi and Deeks anxiously turned. He motioned them to sit down. He could see they all needed a break. He needed a break. He hadn't managed to stop his leg bleeding. Kensi was limping, and Deeks was ghostly pale and favouring his right side.

"Man I wish we had a drink," Deeks sighed, coughing. They'd left the smoke behind at last but the air was hot and dry and wasn't helping their parched throats.

"Well we don't!" Kensi snapped. She didn't notice Deeks recoil from the sharpness in her tone. Her thoughts were still uneasily on Callen and the guilt she felt for the mess they were all in, as well as Deeks being with them despite his reservations. She didn't know if she'd have felt better or worse if he had stayed safely at home.

"You okay, Kens?" Sam asked, looking at her with concern.

"I'm fine," she said shortly. "Sorry Deeks." Deeks shrugged, hiding the hurt. Would things ever be the same between them again? He turned his attention to friendlier eyes.

"Can we do anything Sam? Your leg…?"

"I'm fine," Sam said gruffly, though it was obvious he wasn't. "What about you? Ribs?" Deeks nodded. He might have known Sam would notice.

"I'm good," he said shortly, and in a way he meant it. It was a miracle they'd all got out of that car alive. A few banged up ribs was nothing compared to what could have befallen them all.

"What about your arm Kens? I wish we had some way of cleaning and bandaging it," Sam turned to Kensi. "It's deep. It'll get infected."

"We'll get some antibiotics as soon as we're out of here," Deeks said, refusing to accept any possible alternative. He was going to get Kensi out of here if it killed him. "For you, too. That wound is still bleeding..."

"Can we re-bandage it?" Kensi suggested. "We have to stop it bleeding, Sam."

Sam was unwilling, but saw the sense in it if they were to carry on with their escape, and between the three of them they managed to re-use the blood-stained bandages to create better pressure over the wound. The bleeding slowed, and they all sighed with relief.

"Callen was right, man," Deeks said, without thinking. "You shouldn't have come."

"Like you should have?" Sam retorted. "Like Kensi? Like G?" They were all quiet a moment as they hoped that their leader was okay.

"We had to come," Kensi said quietly. "The kid… Derrick… We had to, Deeks. It's what we do."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you again for the support - I'm continuing for now, the idea I had for this story just won't leave me alone so I hope I can make it work!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

"Hey," Callen's low voice sounded loud in the darkness, and the three shadowy outlines in front of him visibly jumped. "Only me," he said, clambering up from the hollow where he'd been crouched down, invisible, waiting for them. "Sorry." His apology was uncharacteristic but he was relieved to have found them all again.

"God, G!" Sam exclaimed crossly, though there was relief in his voice too.

"You almost gave me a heart attack on top of my bump on the noggin!" Deeks tried to joke.

"Did they follow you?" Kensi asked.

"Not this far. They gave up when it started getting dark. I gave them the slip, at least until it gets light again. You haven't got as far as I thought you would. Everything okay?"

"Define okay," Sam grumbled. "We're all still alive."

"We need to find somewhere to rest for the night," Kensi said pointedly. Callen read between the lines, though it was already obvious they were all struggling from how little progress they'd made. He'd expected them to get much further along the heading he'd sent them on, and he'd had to double back, worrying in the dark that he had missed them, that they could have passed unnoticed like ships in the night. In some ways it might have made the next stage of his plan easier, but he had needed to check they were all okay and Kensi had met up with Sam and Deeks successfully after he sent her off on her own.

"If we can all get just a bit further, there's some rocks we can shelter under. No 5* luxury hotel here, but it'll offer some cover…" Even in the darkness, he could see the unease on all their faces as they understood what he meant despite his casual tone. "I'm sure they've canned the search for the night and they'll regroup in the morning," Callen said with a calmness he didn't wholly feel, but he was their leader and he had a job to do. "We'll have time to rest."

"Come on then," Sam said gruffly. His leg was hurting him a lot, and the idea of somewhere relatively safe to sit down and rest appealed strongly. He started to move in the direction Callen had indicated. Callen watched him for a second before he turned to Kensi and Deeks.

"Are you two okay to keep going?" he demanded, his concern for Sam inflecting his voice with more sharpness than he intended. "We need to make it to those rocks for the night."

Kensi and Deeks nodded miserably, silently helping each other though Callen could clearly see the tension between them. He shook his head and moved past them, catching up towards Sam who was limping badly. Kensi once again noticed Callen's uneven gait, twin to Sam's.

"Callen!" she said in a low voice. "You're bleeding."

Ahead, Sam stopped and turned back to Callen, and they all looked concerned. They hadn't given a thought to the possibility of their leader being injured, each too wrapped up in their own injuries and angst over their survival, the terror in the burning car still prominent in all their minds. Callen had been giving them orders, had been focusing on them and their rescue, and none of them had thought to check him out.

"We need to get to the rocks." Callen stubbornly repeated. "Now!"

And because they all knew he was right, they followed his unsteady lead, Sam limping whilst trying to keep firm pressure on his wound, and Kensi and Deeks supporting each other, one still dizzy, one hobbling. In this slow fashion, they made their way to the rocky outcrop Callen had seen, and there, feeling only marginally safer, they lowered themselves to the ground again.

 _NCIS:LA_

"Where are you injured, G?" Sam demanded, once they had all caught their breath.

"Leg. Piece of metal when the car exploded," Callen muttered. Sam pulled a small flashlight from an inner pocket and miraculously it was still working. He shone the tiny beam over Callen's leg.

"Son of a…" Deeks swore as he saw the shrapnel embedded in Callen's thigh. Blood was slowly spreading, adding dark red splotches to the desert coloured camouflage trousers he wore.

"We need to get that out!" Kensi exclaimed.

"No!" Sam was quick to respond. "It might be plugging the wound. Unless we've got something sterile to pack the injury with, he could bleed out if we remove it!"

"I'll just click my fingers and rustle up a first aid kit," Callen said tiredly, hugging his left arm, which also hurt, to his chest. "God knows we all could do with one." He looked around at his team, all with dried blood on their faces and necks, and Kensi's bare lower arms with the deep cut on her left forearm. "How's your arm, Kens?" he asked her.

"Still bleeding. Sore," she admitted. "Not as bad as that though." She gestured back to his leg. They were all so exhausted, the come down from the extreme adrenaline fuelled by their escape from the burning car so immense, that none of them noticed how Callen still held his left arm protectively to his chest, avoiding using his hand on that side. He didn't draw attention to it. There was no point. There was nothing any of them could do, but his wrist was swelling painfully and he suspected one of the bones in his forearm was broken. He leant his head back on the rock behind him and shut his eyes, gathering himself for what was to come.

"So now what?" Deeks was fractious, rising to pace like a caged tiger.

"Sit down, Deeks, you have a concussion," Kensi pleaded, but he ignored her.

"Kens is right, man," Sam spoke in a low voice, well aware of the angst between them that had been there even before they'd got to Mexico, before this ill-fated mission had ripped them still further apart. "Sit down."

"Look," said Callen, in the tone of voice Sam knew meant he was going to say something they all weren't going to like, and he cautioned,

"G," low and rumbling in his throat, but Callen ignored him.

"The General will still be looking for us. They might believe one or two of us burned without trace in that car…" the others all made a face… "But not all of us. They'll come looking as soon as it's light. We're out-numbered… And we can't rely on a search and rescue mission to come swooping in and save us. We're not meant to be here, remember?"

"As if we could forget," Deeks muttered.

"I want you three to keep moving," Callen continued, raising his hand against their protests. "Find somewhere safe to hide out, find some help, whatever. But get away from here. I'll hold off the General's men as long as I can."

"Callen, you're injured!" Kensi said softly.

"None of us are in great shape, Kens," Callen responded gruffly. "And this was MY mission, my promise to Mosley. It's because of me you're all here, so the least I can do is try to get you all out."

"Why can't we just all stay together?" Kensi persisted. She didn't want them to split up again, she felt safer now they were all together. Callen looked at Sam, and from Sam's silence Callen knew he understood, even if he didn't like it. None of them were in a shape to move fast enough to evade the General's men, in a land they didn't know, with only themselves, injured and minimally armed, and no way to contact or get support from their colleagues in LA. For a brief moment, Callen thought of Hetty. She wouldn't take this lying down he knew, but even she didn't have the strings to pull to mount a rescue to save them from an unsanctioned mission gone bad. For now, they were on their own.

"You're offering yourself up as a bait," Sam said gruffly. "To distract them while we escape."

"Wait, what?" It was Deeks who protested now. "Callen… You're going to LET them take you?"

"Callen, you can't!" Kensi choked back a sob.

"We don't have a choice." Callen stated. "Sam's injured…"

"So are you," muttered Sam.

"They don't know about you," Callen continued, ignoring his partner as he continued to answer Deeks. "And they think Kensi is a Spanish riding instructor."

"You're kidding, right?" Kensi exclaimed. "They know I was the one who got the kid out of the compound!"

"Yes, but for now, it's still plausible that's all you are and maybe Sam and I as Americans, kidnappers most likely, pressed you into helping us… Spencer Williams is rich, he may already be thinking it was a kidnapping gone wrong. It's believable…" Sam nodded. "Either way, I'm more valuable to them than you are." He didn't add that he was trained and experienced in being captured and tortured. It wouldn't have offered any of them any comfort. "I can make them believe you all died in the car and give you time to get out of here. It's our only play, and it isn't up for debate."


	4. Chapter 4

_Firstly - I am soooooo sorry it's taken so long to update this! I've been having a flare up of an on-going health issue and have consequently very frustratingly had some Writers Block... I hope to be back in the game now, and thank you for your patience!_

 _Anonymous, thank you so much for your lovely review! I was amazed that Hetty vocalised to Mosely so baldly what she felt for Callen, and I desperately hope that's going to be picked up on in season ten... It was certainly a part of the inspiration behind this story._

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

They took turns on guard while the others tried to rest, splitting the time into ninety minute shifts. It wasn't long enough, but Callen wanted to get his team on the move again well before the sun came up and the General's men came again in pursuit. He knew Sam wasn't in a good way, and Kensi and Deeks weren't much better off. His team insisted he took the first watch so he'd have plenty of time to rest before he set out on his own, but pain and adrenaline prevented him from getting any real sleep.

Sam had taken the last shift, and as he took over from Kensi he watched Callen moving restlessly where he had curled up at the base of a large rock. He couldn't tell if Callen was sleeping or not, but long before Sam's time was up, Callen sidled over to join him.

"You don't have to do this, G," Sam pleaded in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb Kensi and Deeks who had both somehow managed to fall asleep.

"You got a better plan?" Callen whispered wearily, settling himself down next to his partner.

"Yeah, we stick together."

"You and I both know that'll only end with all four of us getting caught or killed before the day is out."

"But you're injured, G…"

"We're all injured Sam. Can you honestly say that you, or Kensi or Deeks, are better placed to draw the General's men away?"

"I hate it when you're so rational," Sam grumbled.

"You hate it when you know I'm right." Despite their situation, a faint smirk crossed Callen's face as he spoke.

"I don't like it, G."

"No." Callen paused. "Get them home, Sam. All of you. Get yourselves home. And…" Callen paused, the slightest break in his voice. "Make it right with Hetty, will you? Don't let her do anything daft."

"You're not expecting to make it out!" Sam exclaimed.

"Shhhh. Don't wake the children!" Callen looked over at Kensi and Deeks, but they were undisturbed.

"G!"

"Of course I'll make it out. You'll come and rescue me," Callen said with a smile. Sam shook his head.

"As if I could stop Hetty from doing anything," he muttered.

 _NCIS:LA_

The two men sat without speaking until a little later when Callen rose stiffly to rouse Kensi and Deeks. It was still dark. They staggered unwillingly to their feet. Deeks swayed a little as he made it to vertical and Callen noticed but didn't comment. As Kensi moved to step forward she winced and bit her tongue to prevent herself from yelping.

"Shit, baby, what is it?" Deeks was instantly concerned.

"My leg," Kensi gasped in pain. "My ankle. It's stiffened up overnight." She gingerly put some weight down through her left leg again. "I can walk, Callen," she tried desperately to reassure her team leader, but his look of concern showed he didn't totally believe her.

Sam, too, was struggling. Inwardly, Callen cursed. He needed to know his team would be safe. He offered his right hand down to Sam, and somehow between the two of them Sam was able to scramble to his feet. He put a hand on Callen's shoulder and moved him a pace away, trying again to convince him they should stay together. They had a hushed and rapid argument, which ended with Callen passing Sam the spare magazine of bullets he had stowed in a pocket as he turned and started to limp back in the direction they'd come, back towards the burning car. In the darkness they could easily make out the glow of the wreck still quietly smouldering, showing just how little ground they had managed to cover, how little margin they currently had for safety.

With a heavy sigh, Sam stepped back towards Kensi and Deeks and the three of them watched Callen disappear into the night. Reluctantly, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he saw his partner alive, Sam motioned for them to start moving in the opposite direction. If they stayed down in the gully they had a chance of escaping unseen, finding their way to the road and friendlier territory, as long as Callen could buy them some time. Sam refused to let himself think of what the General and his men would do with Callen once they got him. They both knew his capture was inevitable. It was the only way they stood a chance of any of them escaping, so Callen would make sure of it. Better one than all four, Callen had said, and Sam hated it, but knew he was right. They had no hope if the cartel caught up to all four of them, but maybe this way there was a chance, a very slight chance, they'd all return home. He only hoped the General's men would consider Callen valuable enough not to kill him on first sight. Sam gritted his teeth against the pain in his leg and determined that they would, he would, return for Callen. Leave no one behind. He would return for Callen, dead or alive, and whether he had Hetty's help or not.

 _NCIS:LA_

Callen stumbled back past the burning car and took cover in the gully the other side of the road from where he'd sent his team, heading back along the track he had created before in his ruse to draw the men away only hours ago. As the horizon started to glow a soft orange with the rising sun, he leant back against the slope and took another look at his leg. It was still bleeding, but not badly, and though he trusted Sam's medical field knowledge, he decided the metal wasn't deeply embedded, hadn't hit anything major. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out, quickly putting pressure on the wound with both hands, which hurt like hell but kept the bleeding under control. After a minute or two, he stood again and gingerly put weight through his leg. As long as walking didn't start it all bleeding again he'd be able to move quicker without the metal catching him every step. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, feeling the blood mix with sweat and dust and dirt. What he would give for a shower, a change of clothes. A beer on the beach with his team. Clenching his jaw at the thought of Sam and the others, he started moving again. In the distance, he thought he heard shouts and the noise of engines, and he hoped, he prayed, that his team would keep their heads down, keep moving, and stay safe.

It didn't take as long as Callen hoped before he heard the General's men close behind him. He dropped down to the ground and looked searchingly through the scrub to assess the threat. Two men. Both large, and both armed. He inwardly groaned. He needed them to focus their attention on him, needed to give Sam as much time as he could. He slithered in an arc that brought him round behind the men and waited silently until they stopped to examine the point where his trail through the bushes had petered out. Quickly he rose and used the butt of his rifle to viciously hit the man nearest to him at the base of the skull. Almost without a sound the man dropped to the ground, and his partner turned on Callen, but Callen was ready and spun behind the surprised Mexican, clutching his injured arm round the thick neck while his free hand pulled the knife he had stowed in his boot and held it to the man's throat.

"Quietly!" he warned in Spanish, and unexpectedly the man obeyed. Callen kicked his ankles, forcing him to move forwards, keeping a firm hold of both the knife and his arm round the man's neck. The pain was extreme but he used it to focus his mind solely on his task. He wished he had something to tie the man's hands with. In this awkward fashion they continued moving, with Callen's only thought being that he wanted to put as much space between where he was and his team moving in the opposite direction as he could before he lost his advantage over the enemy.

 _NCIS:LA_

The heat burned down on them like a battering ram, and Deeks paused again to wipe the sweat from his brow. He felt dizzy and nauseous and his vision would occasionally blur. His head pounded. But still they all struggled on. They had no choice. He focused his gaze on Sam a pace ahead of him, refraining from proposing again that they should rest. His earlier suggestion had gone down like a lead balloon as Sam doggedly led them onwards.

They were moving so slowly now. Not that they had ever been travelling fast. Deeks was sure Sam's leg was still bleeding, though his trousers were now so stained with blood it was impossible to tell new from old. Kensi was still limping but she had refused Deeks' support, lost in her own desperate thoughts. He glanced back at her and she looked up at him at the same moment and gave him a small smile. He thought his heart might break in two, right there in the desert. The harsh, barren land with only passing sights of green was a metaphor for their relationship at the moment. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, to hug her, to save her from the emotional torment he knew she was putting herself through. He faltered, taking a short stride so that she caught up to him.

"It'll be okay," he whispered, trying to comfort her.

"Will it? Will it, Deeks? Callen…" she choked back a sob. "What if they shoot first and ask questions later? What if Williams is still there and recognises him?" She kept her voice low so that Sam wouldn't hear her. She knew how desperate he was feeling at leaving his partner behind. "And we have no idea where we're going. We've lost contact with Ops, we've got barely any weapons, and none of us are in a fit state to fight. We don't know anyone here who can help us. How is it going to be okay?"

Deeks was silent for a long time. His head was spinning, from his concussion, from the heat, from his almost paralysing concern for her. He brushed his hand tentatively against Kensi's, afraid of being shunned, but it was as if the small physical contact broke her and she turned desperately to him with her eyes full of tears. He reached a gentle finger up to brush a stray one away, leaving a pale track down her dust-covered cheek, and he wasn't sure if she flinched at his touch or if it was just his trembling hand.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, and even he didn't know if he was talking about their struggling relationship, or about the fate that might befall them all in that hostile place.


	5. Chapter 5

_Finally... right from the start of this story I've had major misgivings about writing Kensi and Deeks, and that's been the stumbling block at the end of this chapter. I hope you feel I have got it right._

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

Callen wasn't certain how much ground he managed to cover before he was caught. Not enough, that was for sure. The intense heat and the pain in his arm was making him dizzy, and he would forever wonder if what happened next was because he dropped his guard. One minute he was scuffling forward with his knife at his hostage's throat, trying to decide how he could best use this small advantage he had, and the next he was down on the ground on his back, his own knife wickedly slashed across his arm as his captive pulled it out of his grasp and spun away from him. He looked up to see two more men, both with guns, and both guns were pointing directly at his heart. They were yelling at him in angry Spanish to stay still, to stay the hell still or he'd have a bullet in his chest. He stayed very still. The bright sun bore down on him, but he kept wary eyes open on the three men towering above him. One was frantically speaking into a radio, calling for the General, telling him urgently they had captured one of the American 'tourists' who had been sneaking around the compound. The radio crackled back with a strong, angry voice, giving orders that Callen didn't particularly like the sound of. The only positives, from his point of view, were that they didn't seem to have any sign of the others, and no one so far had mentioned Spencer Williams' name.

Strong arms hauled him up to a sitting position, holding him in a vice like grip while the guns were still trained on him. A torrent of angry Spanish demanded that he tell them where the woman was, where she had taken the child. He gave them his best blank expression. _No comprendiendo lo siento._ After so many years of practice, he could do a blank expression all too well, but it infuriated his captors and one of them back handed him across his jaw. He ran his tongue over the cut, tasting the small trickle of blood as the man repeated his questions.

"My Spanish isn't that good, pal," Callen said boldly. "Try again in English."

It confounded them for just a moment, just long enough for him to prepare himself for what came next. Two pairs of muscular arms roughly dragged him to his feet, and he felt the barrel of one of the guns pressed into the back of his neck. He was half shoved back the way he had come, forced through the thickly growing plants, scuffing up dust and dirt. One of the men was grasping his left arm so hard just below the elbow he could feel the shockwaves echoing right up through his shoulder and his neck, and he hoped he wasn't going to pass out from the pain.

As they came back within the vicinity of the wreckage of the SUV, Callen was pushed down a wider path that eventually brought them to the other side of the bridge where the General and his men had positioned themselves for the ambush. A circle of trucks were there, and Callen looked in dismay at the number of them. The General had a lot of men at his disposal. He would have to make very sure he convinced them there was no point in continuing to search for Derrick and the rest of his team.

 _NCIS:LA_

"Sam?" Kensi spoke in a small voice, afraid of the reception she was going to get. As the day wore on, Sam's mood had become ever blacker. Sam turned to her, his expression thunderous and pain drawing harsh lines around his eyes, but he softened as he saw the look in her eyes. She and Deeks were stood a pace apart behind him, heads lowered, exhausted and miserable, all their usual gaiety long gone.

"What?" Sam said gruffly.

"I think… I think I heard some water." Deeks snapped his head up to look at her.

"Are you serious?" he asked, hope rising in his voice. They were all so desperately thirsty. His head was pounding so much he could barely think.

"Just back there a little way," Kensi gestured behind her. They all strained their ears, but could hear nothing. "I'll go and look?" she offered. Out of the three of them, she was faring the best, and it weighed down on her. The faith she had had in the burning truck that they would all get out of this situation alive was diminishing with every step they took further away, leaving Callen behind alone to a fate that was even more uncertain than their own.

"We'll stick together," Deeks said in a low voice, not meeting her eyes. "No more splitting up, we came together, we're gonna get through this together." He started to move in the direction she had pointed, and Kensi raised her eyes to Sam to confirm. He too nodded, and started to limp after Deeks. With a sigh, Kensi followed, looking carefully around her. Her nerves were on high alert and she couldn't settle them down. It was making her twitchy and paranoid, and she missed the emotional calm that Callen brought to their team. The rest of them didn't have that same cold ability to separate their emotions from the job that needed doing. For the hundredth time that morning she wondered what was happening to him, but had the good sense to keep her thoughts to herself.

As she traipsed after the two men she realised she had been right, and she had indeed heard the sound of trickling water. Carefully, fearing a potential ambush, the three of them moved through the scrub land towards the sound, realising that they were nearing a road, and the barren desert was at last coming to an end. Running alongside the road, which was a generous term, Kensi thought, for it was more of a single lane dirt track, was a narrow stream. There was a scant inch or two of water in the bottom, but it looked clear and fresh. They kept low to the ground as they approached it, but the area surrounding them appeared absolutely deserted.

"Sam?" Kensi whispered, as they came to the edge of the vegetation offering them a degree of cover. "What do you think?"

"I can't see anything," Sam replied, looking carefully around. "If I remember the map correctly, this track eventually meets up with the road going back to the north of Los Mochis. I think we're heading out of the cartel's area."

"You think?" Deeks couldn't help himself.

"Well do you have a better idea of where we are?" Kensi demanded impatiently.

"Settle down guys," Sam said wearily. "Let's have a drink, have a rest and then we'll decide where to go from here."

 _NCIS:LA_

There was a pounding in his head that even in his semi-conscious state, Callen recognised as a mild concussion. He realised his eyes were closed, and he opened them, lifting his heavy head off his chest. He was bound in a chair in the middle of a large, furnished room. Taking care to move his head slowly, he looked around, noting with a darkening feeling of despair that escape was likely to prove difficult. There were three doors; two firmly closed with no handles on the inside. The third was ajar, and by straining forward he could see it led to a small bathroom. Two fairly large windows were blocked by heavy wooden shutters, secured from the outside no doubt. Daylight crept through cracks in the wood, and it was late afternoon sun, he thought. He surmised that he had probably been unconscious for several hours. The chair was the same one he had been strapped to and interrogated in when he first arrived back at the compound, hauled roughly by the General's men out of one of the trucks, but the room was new.

He made a half-hearted attempt to escape his bounds, but it was futile and he knew it. He had already tried when they first secured him in the chair, not so much then because he expected to be able to escape, but because he knew it was the behaviour his captors would expect.

His initial interrogation hadn't been as tough as he expected, not based on what they believed had happened to Hidoko. General Vasquez had arrived soon after he had been tied to the chair, striding about the room shouting angrily and switching between Spanish and clipped English at a speed which had made him feel dizzy. Vasquez had ordered his men in turn to attack Callen, but so far they had used nothing more than their fists and he had borne their attentions with a doggedness that was easy given his belief it would likely only get worse. Much much worse. One final blow to his head had abruptly ended that particular session, though he doubted it would be long before he had to endure another round, and he hoped it would prove as easy again to maintain his silence.

 _NCIS:LA_

Back at the stream, the other three agents had braved leaving the relative security of the undergrowth, and lowered themselves flat to the ground at the edge of the water to use their hands to cup the water and drink. Water, blessed water at last. Kensi used it as best she could to wash the blood and dirt from her face, and glancing sideways she saw Deeks doing the same. Sam had taken his fill to drink and was sat back, looking stonily down at his injured leg.

"At least we found some water," Kensi said to him encouragingly, shuffling back to sit near him. He looked at her without speaking, and she knew that finding water, though at this moment the difference between life and death for them, was a poor consolation in the face of possibly never seeing his partner again.

"Callen will be okay," Deeks said, reading the look and joining them both on the ground.

"He could already be dead," Sam said stonily, in no mood to be reassured. Guilt was weighing heavily on him too. He had been absolutely truthful with Callen, back at Ops before they left for Mexico, that he had taken part in other missions with injuries just as bad. But Callen's repeated protests that he shouldn't have come, that he was a liability, echoed hopelessly over and over in his mind. Callen's desire to protect his team at all the costs was the only reason that he was out there on his own now, instead of with Sam to have his back. Sam knew his thoughts were useless, but they churned away inside him nonetheless.

"Sam!" Kensi said, tears welling again in her eyes. Sam met her eyes and raised his hand to her shoulder apologetically, but neither of them could get past the thought that he could well be right, and Callen could already have sacrificed his own life to save theirs.

"We have to keep thinking positive," Deeks said. "Callen's got more lives than a cat. Maybe we should be fearing what he will do to Vasquez and his men, not the other way round." His attempts to lighten the mood fell on deaf ears.

"Oh what the hell do you know, Deeks!" Kensi cried. "There's just one of him, against all those men, the cartel, the Federales… What chance has he got?" Her eyes filled unbidden with tears as guilt once again overcame her, and she furiously blinked them away, hating how they betrayed her emotions.

"And that's exactly why he didn't want any of us to come!" Deeks finally lost his barely-maintained cool. They were all tired, hungry, all feeling various degrees of guilt and misguided responsibility. He couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "This whole mission, it was ill-fated from the start! Mosley put us all in an impossible position, played on Callen keeping his word to her all those months ago. She knew he wouldn't back down, hell she probably knew if he came here, we'd all come. We've been played, and look where it's gotten us. We all should have stayed at home."

"Will you two cut it out!" Sam snapped, but Kensi and Deeks were too wrapped up in their angst to hear him.

"Well we didn't stay at home, did we? We're here, and we need to deal with it. I know you'd rather be somewhere else…"

"I think we'd all rather be somewhere else," Deeks muttered, interrupting Kensi's furious flow.

"And maybe we all would be if you hadn't wasted time trying to convince me to get on that chopper with Mosley," Kensi said bitterly, unable to meet his eyes. Deeks was taken aback at the ice in her tone.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked. "You blame me for us not getting out? For those Mexican bastards shooting a rocket at us? For Callen heading off to do his own thing, like he always does? Wow. Really?"

"For God's sake," Sam muttered crossly. "Enough with the blame game, it isn't helping!"

"You want to know the truth Deeks?" Kensi finally met his eyes, and was devastated at the hurt she saw there. "You really want to know the truth? No, I don't blame you. If I blame anyone, I blame myself. Callen screamed at me to get us out of there, and I hesitated, Deeks. I hesitated. I didn't reverse fast enough. If it's anyone's fault that he might be dead, it's mine. And I'm going to go and find him." And with that, Kensi spun back the way they'd come, running off into the bush, leaving Sam and Deeks scrambling to their feet, stunned and speechless.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

Kensi fled as if the enemy were hot on her heels, which in a way they were, for the demons in her head were at least as threatening as the Mexicans right now. Tears burned down her cheeks but they only served to remind her of the forlorn look in Deeks' eyes that she could no longer bear to see, and she felt like she was being suffocated by the guilt she felt, such overwhelming guilt, for Callen, for Deeks. It was eating away at her, and oh, that look Deeks had given her when she had finally met his eyes after accusing him of being the reason they hadn't all managed to escape. She hadn't meant it, had she? Surely she hadn't meant it. She ran with such raw misery it scared her, and she used the fear to fuel herself on, wanting nothing more than to turn the clock back a day, a week… Back to before her fight with Deeks, back to a time when they had been happy together, a time she feared was now lost to them forever.

Eventually, the nagging ache in her ankle became a sharper pain and she was forced to slow to a stilting jog and finally a walk. Her guilt-driven flight had taken her at a pace far surpassing what they had managed as a threesome to achieve and she realised she was halfway back to the standing stones where they had all spent the previous night. She sank to the ground, panting, trying to clear her head. Running away – she couldn't possibly give it any other label – had been rash, stupid. What had she been thinking, leaving the others and fleeing back here on her own in such a foolhardy manner? Running away from Deeks, from her partner. That wasn't the behaviour of a cool, well-trained agent. She had allowed her emotions to over-rule her, and now she needed to calm down and work out a plan. She could scout the area, find out if Callen was still being held there. She might be able to get the lie of the land, see how the enemy had regrouped themselves, collect vital intel for a rescue mission. She was the only one of the three fit enough to do that. She refused to allow herself to think of Deeks and only hoped that Sam had been able to restrain him from running headlong after her. They would be okay. They would reach Los Mochis, get help. She'd be ready for it. They'd get help to rescue Callen, and then they'd all be able to go home.

 _NCIS:LA_

Callen held his breath as one of the doors to his room was unlocked, letting out a partial sigh of relief when he saw it was only two armed guards, unaccompanied by either General Vasquez or worse, Spencer Williams. He hadn't quite worked out his story for the inevitable interrogation by the latter yet.

The two muscular men crossed to his chair. One of them held him firmly by the shoulders, and the other took a plastic bottle from a pocket in his coat. The bottle contained a greyish-looking thick liquid and Callen watched with some trepidation as the man unscrewed the cap and moved to hold it to his lips.

"Drink!" he commanded in Spanish, and warily Callen took a careful sip. It turned out to be some sort of mushroom soup, cold and not particularly appetising, but it was all Callen had eaten in over 24 hours and he drank it fast, afraid it would be snatched away. The Mexican held it while he finished, angling it up so that he could drink to the end of the bottle, and screwing the lid back on and returning it to his pocket when he was done.

"Gracias," Callen said politely, throwing his captors off guard.

"You will be untied for the night," the man with the bottle said to him, drawing a knife from another pocket with which he proceeded to cut the ties round Callen's wrists, freeing his arms from the arms of the chair, though he was still restrained by ropes securing his ankles to the chair legs and another around his chest, pinning his upper arms to his body. "Hands together!" the Mexican barked, and resignedly Callen did as he was ordered. A new piece of rope was used to bind his wrists tightly together in front of him, and despite the pain it caused in his swollen left arm Callen made no fuss, thinking he could use this information on his routine if he allowed the Mexicans to drop their guard towards him. Once his hands were secured, the man cut the remaining ropes so that he would be free to get up from the chair and move around the room. "Stay sitting til we leave!" the man ordered, and again Callen meekly obeyed. In all truth he was so stiff from being bound in one position for so long, he wanted to leave the indignity of his first awkward movements until he was alone, and that proved wise when, after the door was securely locked and bolted, he clambered to his feet and fully realised the toll his earlier beating had taken on him.

Moving unsteadily to the bathroom to relieve himself, he fumbled to lift his shirt to see the already purple bruising covering most of his torso, and he sighed, knowing he was in for an uncomfortable night but hoping it was all worthwhile if the Mexicans were abandoning their search to focus on him and allowing his team time to escape. He hadn't expected this night of peace, but considered it likely that the delay in questioning him further was to allow time for Spencer Williams to return. He wondered where Williams had been that day, tossing up the possibilities in his mind. It was most likely the man had left to put together his people to search for his abducted son, but surely as soon as he had word that Callen had been captured, he would return. Callen inwardly shuddered at the thought, but knew it had been the right thing to do for him to allow himself to be taken, not only to protect his team, but to draw heat away from Mosley getting Derrick to safety. With any luck, both parties would now be safe, and that only left him to figure out how to get himself out of this mess and return home.

 _NCIS:LA_

"Hetty?" Nell approached cautiously. Ever since the three of them had witnessed the SUV's shocking demise the day before, had heard the panicked shouts of the four agents as they saw the rocket being launched at them before the final devastating explosion when everything had gone blank, Hetty had been mute and withdrawn. She had left Ops without a word, moving mechanically down the stairs to her office where she had remained ever since, silently staring into space. Neither Nell nor Eric had been able to persuade her to go home, or even to move to the couch in the bullpen where she could rest. Nell was on the verge of calling for help, though who or what sort of help, she was not entirely sure. Instead, she and Eric had camped out in Ops, keeping a watchful eye on Hetty and determined not to leave a single stone unturned until they could be sure what had befallen their team in Mexico. They had received one phone call from Mosley little more than an hour after they had lost contact with Callen and the team. She had demanded an update from Hetty, and it had fallen to Nell to explain that Hetty was unavailable and the four agents were unreachable and presumably still in Mexico, if indeed they were even still alive. Mosley's response had been unrepeatable, and they had not been able to make contact with her again.

Hetty looked up at Nell with unseeing eyes, but it was more of a response than either of them had gotten so far, and so Nell pressed on.

"We've managed to get satellite images from just after the time we lost contact… We think you should come and look," Nell said pleadingly. Hetty stared at her for a long time, and Nell found it unsettling, but she maintained eye contact, and held a hand out to help Hetty to her feet. The Ops manager had aged decades in the last three days, ever since the plane bound for Mexico had taken off, taking her four agents with it, and Nell hoped that what they were about to show her would not destroy her further if it turned out to be false hope. But it was a shred of hope, and she and Eric had clung to it like a lifebelt, not yet ready to accept the alternative.

They climbed the stairs slowly, Nell fearing for Hetty's frailty, but by the top of the stairs the old woman had composed herself and she walked through the doors with her usual poise, looking immediately to the big screen where Eric had displayed the satellite images ready.

"It's less than five minutes after the explosion," Eric explained. "I managed to switch to show heat signatures. You can see the wreck of the SUV," he pointed to a bright mass that dominated the screen. Neither of them missed the slight increase in tension in the small woman stood between them.

"But here," Nell quickly continued. "Two figures up here," she pointed. "And another not far behind."

"Just three?" Hetty finally spoke, her voice quiet and hoarse.

"There's a single figure over here," Eric said, pointing. "Taking a different direction from the crash site than the others. But it doesn't seem likely to be a hostile. They all seem grouped here still," he pointed to a mass of heat signatures a few hundred yards below the crash site. "It wouldn't make sense for one of them to move up round here alone. But one of our team, fleeing from the crash…"

"Disorientated maybe," Nell continued. "It's possible, we really do think it's possible Hetty, that all four of them survived."

 _NCIS:LA_

Sam and Deeks moved silently as the day turned to dusk. Sam had barely been able to restrain the overwrought detective when Kensi ran off, having to clamp a hand firmly to his mouth to stifle his anguished cries in his partner's wake. But Kensi had run, deaf and blind to the desolation she left behind, and it had taken every ounce of field training Sam had to maintain his focus and insist that he and Deeks moved onwards, bound for Los Mochis and hopefully for help. It was only because Sam was now struggling to walk without leaning on Deeks that the younger man had stayed with him, his loyalties clearly torn between Sam and his partner, but neither of them were in a fit state to catch up to Kensi and deep down they both knew it. They had travelled in oppressive silence, with Deeks refusing to meet Sam's eyes or speak to him, so that when he did finally talk it took them both by surprise.

"Sam!" he breathed, barely able to contain the rising vestige of hope he felt at the sight before him. Sam turned, wondering what had caught the detective's eye. "Look. The horses!" Sam squinted in the direction Deeks pointed, struggling in the fading light to see the two shapes, until one of them moved. The hazy outlines of the two horses were slowly moving away from them, meandering calmly as if for all the while they were free on a deserted plain, searching for stray blades of grass hidden under the bushes. Their tack clinked softly as they moved.

"Can you ride?" Sam asked. "Can we catch them?"

"What were their names again?" Deeks asked.

"God knows, what the hell has that got to do with anything?" Sam demanded as the two of them started to move quicker towards the two beasts, trying to hide any sense of urgency that might cause the horses to spook and run off.

"Here, horses, horses," Deeks crooned, clucking his tongue.

"For God's sake, Deeks, they're not dogs!" Sam exclaimed. Deeks shrugged.

"It might work," he said nonchalantly, continuing to cluck and talk inanely to the animals as they got closer. Sam rolled his eyes and limped along behind.

Deeks kept his surprise well-hidden when one of the horses stopped and turned, raising it's head and focusing pricked ears on him curiously.

"Don't scare it away," Sam muttered, but the horses seemed pleased to see humans again, and when the first one started walking boldly towards Deeks' outstretched hand, the second also turned and followed.

"Just call me the Horse Whisperer," Deeks grinned, taking a firm hold of the reins and rubbing the big neck tentatively. The horse whickered at him softly. Sam reached out to take the reins of the second one.

"We might as well trust that they know where they're headed," he said. The horses were moving in roughly the direction Sam had thought would take them to Los Mochis, and he knew enough of horses to feel confident in their homing instincts. It surprised him a little that they hadn't fled the area long ago, but he decided not to question a gift from the Gods, instead clumsily heaving himself into the saddle he had occupied little more than a day ago in his and Callen's frantic gallop from the compound. He watched as Deeks struggled to do the same, not as comfortable around horses as Sam and Callen, and finding the scramble into the saddle awkward with his broken ribs. Eventually he was on board, picking up the reins and nudging his mount to follow Sam, allowing the horses to pick their own footing in the evening light, heading at last more positively towards salvation.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to those following this story and leaving me your thoughts! There is a little bit of violence in this chapter - sorry about that. I have tried not to go into gory details... torture scenes always make me distinctly uncomfortable, so much like in the show I have tried to gloss over the worst of the violence!_

 _In response to anonkp's review on the last chapter, I agree, it does feel like the last straw for Kensi and Deeks. I'm afraid I'm not too sure that I will be putting them back together, at least not immediately. Sorry to all Densi lovers out there, but to me, after that fight in the parking structure before they left for Mexico, it feels like their issues run too deep at the moment to be easily fixed. They both want different things... I don't know how you get past that in order to get married... To quote Deeks in that spectacularly emotional fight 'These are big questions, don't you think?' ..._

 _If the recent spoilers are correct, it looks like the writers of S10 will have the answers, even if I don't here!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

The morning dawned all too soon for Callen. Stiff and uncomfortable, he raised a weary head and moved to sit up on the battered old couch he had spent most of the night on, trying with little success to sleep. The pounding behind his eyes had lessened, but as he blinked to clear his vision he found his left eye slightly swollen and unable to open fully. Squinting in the dim light, he made a careful exploration of the rest of his body. Bumps and bruises, but nothing had worsened from the previous evening. No internal bleeding to worry about. An itching cut on his lip, burst open again where Arlo Turk had already landed a punch. He ran his tongue round his teeth and was relieved to discover none of them felt damaged. The same couldn't be said for his ribs. He pressed his bound hands to them as he stiffly got to his feet, unable to suppress a groan. The Mexicans had been careful in their beating, in that they had avoided all his major organs, but he felt battered and bruised from shoulder to groin. He cursed in several languages below his breath, using the fire behind the words to fuel his movements about the small bathroom. After splashing his face and cupping his hands to drink from the tap, he eased his trousers down and awkwardly managed to rinse the cut in his leg where the shrapnel from the exploding SUV had caught him, pleased to see there were as yet no signs of infection in the wound.

His biggest problem, beyond the situation he was in which he had to admit wasn't great, was his still throbbing left arm. Being bound to his right all night had in a way acted as splint for the broken bone, but the pain every time he moved it was going to hinder any escape attempts, and he felt frustrated that there was nothing he could do to support the limb or ease the pain. He ran the cold tap and held his arms under there for as long as he could stand, hoping to reduce any inflammation as best he could. He was unable to push his sleeves up due to his hands being tied together, so he ended up with both sleeves soaked through, but he figured the continuing dampness would serve as a cold compress, and in any case it was the least of his concerns. He felt fairly sure Spencer Williams would return to question him today, and he returned to sit quietly on the couch, trying to steel himself mentally for the interrogation he knew would come, and certainly wouldn't be pleasant.

 _NCIS:LA_

Kensi crept quietly through the bush, feeling more at peace with herself than she had done for several days. Her new plan, and she had to admit the time alone away from Deeks, gave her the room to breathe freely, to not feel trapped in the turmoil she felt every time she was near him. She couldn't deny her love for him, and how hurt she had felt when in that desperate fight in the car park he had told her he didn't think they should get married. Did he really mean it? He said he loved her, and she knew she loved him. But they wanted such different things. Could they come back from that? She wasn't sure, and it had been troubling her ever since. She liked how things were. She loved her relationship with him. Loved working with him every day. Loved his irritating wonderfulness, his loyalty, his integrity. His hair and his smile and how he always, always had her back. Even though he wanted out. She knew he wanted out, he had done for a long time. She got the feeling he was only staying for her, and it was breaking both of them. She couldn't leave her job for him, so was it fair to expect him to stay in his job for her?

Shaking her head, Kensi realised she was getting side-tracked with her emotions again, and she'd decided she wasn't going to do that. She gave herself a mental kick, and focused on what she was trying to do. A reconnoitre of the area around the compound. Check for signs that Callen was still being kept there. See if anything had changed since they'd scouted the area before going in for Derrick – more guards, more guns. Anything that would help her team. Assuming she could get in contact with them of course. For the first time, Kensi realised she hadn't really thought that part of her plan through, still using it as justification for her rash flee from Deeks but knowing deep down that really she should have stayed with him and Sam, should have stuck to Callen's original plan and instructions to all get out together while he bought them time.

 _NCIS:LA_

Held immobile by two strong Mexicans and with his hands still tied, Callen was unable to defend himself as he once again suffered a beating at the hands of General Vasquez's men. Amidst their blows he was yelled at in Spanish, questioned, commanded to tell them why he was there, what he was doing. He remained silent, defiantly holding the stare of the fuming General. The man's anger towards him seemed out of proportion, which didn't make it any easier to bear the violent fists making contact with him.

He lost track of how long the men continued to question him for. Eventually, as if called away by a whistle, the men suddenly stopped and the two holding him upright released their grip, so that he sank to the floor feeling bruised and shaky. He concentrated on his breathing, shallow and regular, determined not to throw up the small amount of water he had managed to drink earlier in the morning. Ignoring him, the men stood by the door, talking in rapid, hushed voices which Callen couldn't be bothered to try and overhear. He caught one of them mentioning Williams' name, and sighed to himself with resignation. Well, he had known the man would come, hadn't he? And if Spencer Williams was here interrogating him, then he wasn't chasing all over Mexico making life unpleasant for his team. This was what he had hoped would happen, and he would deal with it.

As prepared as Callen thought he was, the sight of Spencer Williams walking through the door sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, but like the true agent he was, he kept his face passive, even as he saw that Williams recognised him. There was a new and violent intensity about the man, even though Callen had dealt with him before and knew he was not a force to be taken lightly. Williams strode angrily across to him, nodding at two of the men who once again hauled Callen to his feet and held him in a vice-like grip in the centre of the barren room.

"Who the hell are you?" Williams demanded in a low, fierce voice. Callen silently held his stare. "Who. Are. You?" Williams repeated, giving a silent nod to one of his muscle men, who delivered a short sharp jab into Callen's ribs. Callen gasped as the breath rushed out of him, but remained silent.

"You infiltrated my security team," Williams continued, his voice cold and hard, growing in intensity as he spoke. "Why? To get close to me? To find out about my son? MY SON, so that you could kidnap him?"

Callen allowed his eyes to show the briefest flicker to indicate to Williams that he was on the right track, and suddenly Williams exploded, taking to Callen with his own fists, pummelling him, yelling furiously, demanding to know who he was working for and why. Callen bit his lip and held his silence, and eventually, used to commanding others to do the physical work for him, Williams backed away.

"Where is he?" He demanded. "Where is my son? You will tell me, so help me God!"

The two men stared at each other, neither backing down. Eventually, Williams seemed to sense that although Callen was smaller, tired and beaten, he wasn't going to get the information he wanted out of him by using his fists. He beckoned again to the General's men hovering behind him, and one of them stepped forward, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and flicking it casually. A large flame roared and slowly died.

"Take off his shirt!" Williams commanded, and Callen found strong arms roughly pulling his dusty, blood-stained khaki shirt over his head and down his arms, stopped at the wrists by the ropes tying his hands. Giving him no chance to protest they did the same with the t-shirt he wore underneath and then quicker than he was able to process a length of rope was passed between his wrists and tied to a beam above him. His arms were hoisted above his head so that he had no choice but to stand bare-chested while the man with the lighter advanced, grinning nastily as he held the flame to Callen's skin. Callen all but screamed, and Spencer Williams smiled coldly.

"You had help," he stated. "A team. The girl with the horses… she was with you." He said it coldly, stating facts, waiting for Callen to confirm.

"No." Callen panted, and his voice was hoarse from pain as much as lack of use. "No team. I work alone."

"The girl…" Williams was adamant. "I saw her with my own eyes. That was no horsewoman. She attacked me, and escaped with my son while you and your team fought with my guards."

 _Dammit_ , Callen cursed. What had Kensi done to Williams? The man with the lighter stepped away, and Callen tried not to show relief. The burnt area on his stomach, just below his ribs, felt like it was still on fire and it took all his concentration to appear unconcerned, not to drop his head and see how badly he'd been burnt. He didn't think for a second it was yet over.

"No team," he repeated. "Just a girl... from the local stables. I paid her to get your son out of the house."

"The General's men tell me two of you escaped on horses. Two men. You have a team." Callen licked his lips and did his best to look broken.

"I had a driver," he admitted eventually. "He died in the car."

"It's interesting," Spencer Williams said slowly, "That you will answer questions about your team. Trying to throw me off... Do I need to send my men out there to search the desert?" Callen remained silent, watching the guard with the lighter with trepidation as he advanced again. But just before the flame touched his skin, they all heard scuffling and voices outside the door, echoing in the hallway. "Stop!" Williams commanded, turning away from Callen and crossing to the door, throwing it wide open.

Callen froze as he heard Kensi's voice, crying, feigning subservience, speaking quickly in accented Spanish but it was definitely Kensi. He strained to hear her. Why was she here? Had his whole team been caught? Dammit, this wasn't the plan!

"I don't know why you've brought me here!" he heard Kensi sob in Spanish. "I've been lost for over two days. These two guys, they stole my truck, my horses… I just need to get home!" Callen had to give it to her, she could spin a story. It didn't sound like Sam and Deeks were with her, which could be good news or bad. He braced himself as he heard Kensi come closer to the door, only to be greeted by Williams.

"There's someone in here who can help you," he said roughly, and Callen watched in dismay as Kensi was shoved hard through the door, sprawling to the ground in front of him. "Maybe the two of you can get your stories straight before we talk again."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks again to everyone reading and reviewing, I think I have responded to you all :-)_

 _Edited to fix a missing couple of lines - thanks UsedToBeMe for noticing!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

"Do you think these horses really do know where they're going?" Deeks asked. Sam sighed.

"They've probably got as good an idea as we do," he admitted wearily. They had travelled on through the night and were both tired of the whole charade now, wanting nothing more than to make contact with Ops, put in place a rescue mission for the missing half of their team, and get home. Incredibly, the horse's saddlebags had survived their various escapades intact, and so as the sun rose they'd both been able to eat a meagre breakfast of protein bars and drink the remaining half bottle of water, rationed from the evening before, to keep them going. They'd kept the bottles in case they came across another stream, trusting that the horses would seek out water at some point as the day grew hotter again, but that was the last of the food gone now.

"It all just looks the same," Deeks sighed. "You don't think we're going round in circles do you?"

"We've been following alongside that track," Sam gestured beyond the scrubby plants hiding them from the gravel track that passed for a road in this part of the world. "And travelling pretty much due west all the time now. So I think it's pretty unlikely. Haven't you any sense of direction?"

"Well clearly I'm not a trained Navy Seal," Deeks muttered.

"Or a horse," Sam raised a feeble joke, but it was enough to make them both smile.

"Or a horse," Deeks agreed. "Okay, Senior Agent and Trekking Guide. How much further to Los Mochis? I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty tired of the endless desert on this sight-seeing trek."

"You and me both," Sam sighed. "But without a map, I don't have that answer, I'm afraid."

 _NCIS:LA_

Kensi couldn't help but gasp in horror at the sight in front of her as she picked herself up and stumbled across the floor to Callen, and he watched her with frustrated helplessness.

"Find something to cut these ropes, for God's sake," he panted shortly, feeling embarrassed at his trussed-up, partially naked state. Kensi dug into her boot and pulled out her small folding knife, desperately trying to saw through the thick rope that secured Callen to the ceiling. Eventually she managed to fray it sufficiently for Callen's weight to be enough to break through the final strands, and he sank to his knees with relief. The rough treatment had done his broken wrist no good at all. He lifted his head to give Kensi a quick look over. She was hot, trembling from yet to be dissipated adrenaline. "What the hell are you doing here?" Callen hissed angrily. "Are you okay?" He worried when Kensi didn't immediately answer him, instead turning away, but after a moment she turned back to him and sat down on the floor. He slumped next to her, his beaten body momentarily giving up on him.

"It looks like I should be asking you that," she eventually answered, raising a faint smile. "Let me free your hands."

"I'm fine," Callen said shortly, sitting up and holding his hands forward so that she could use the knife to cut through the ropes binding his wrists. Inspecting him in short, furtive glances, Kensi could see he wasn't. Even aside from the guarded way he moved and held himself, she could see the bruising and dried blood evidencing his repeated beatings. And the burn… But he was all business as usual, and she refrained from disagreeing with him, unsurprised when his next thoughts were for the rest of his team. "Sam? Deeks?" he enquired urgently.

"They got away," she replied, and Callen sighed with partial relief.

"Why are you here?" he repeated.

"I didn't want to leave you…" Even before she had finished, Callen was cursing below his breath.

"I gave you an order," he said, barely controlling his rising anger fuelled by fear for her.

"Sam, Deeks… they'll get help," Kensi said, with a confidence Callen didn't wholly share. "Look. I was worried they'd take you somewhere we didn't know about. I thought I'd have a quick scout around the area. I was careful… I don't know how they found me."

"They've got so many motion sensors," Callen said, still cross, though touched by her loyalty to him. He felt like there was more to it than she had shared, but he knew he was unlikely to get it out of her in that moment. "I assume we are still in the compound?" She nodded, still intently trying to slice her small knife through the rope without nicking Callen in the process. Eventually she managed, and Callen breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure on his damaged arm was finally eased. He turned away from her to ease his t-shirt back over his head and gingerly down over his chest, hissing as the fabric touched the raw skin of his burn. He shed the thick khaki shirt, turning back towards Kensi and offering it to her. She accepted gratefully, wrapping it temporarily round her shoulders to avert her shivering even though she didn't feel cold. Shock, maybe. Her attack and capture by the General's men had happened so quickly. Her heart thudded inside her chest as she remembered the moment she had been overpowered, thinking they were going to kill her there and then.

"Will they find Sam and Deeks?" she heard Callen ask. His voice grounded her again, providing a welcome interruption to her thoughts.

"I don't think so," she answered. Callen sighed. He supposed that would have to do. "They were both still moving when I left them," Kensi added, doing her best to reassure him. He grunted, and she could see responsibility written heavily across his face. She looked him over, noting how he held his left arm, which was swollen, close in to his body. "What can I do?" she asked softly.

"Besides ignoring a direct order?" Callen raised his head to her tiredly, and she felt herself blush.

"Well, you're a fine one to talk," she retorted mildly, and was relieved to see a flash of his trademark smirk, though his eyes remained dark and she could tell he still wasn't overly happy with her. There wasn't much she wanted to say about that, so they sat together in silence for a while, each contemplating unpleasant thoughts.

"We ought to get our stories straight, I suppose," Kensi eventually said.

"There is no story," Callen told her firmly. "Maintain your cover, act like you don't know me, you're scared of me, whatever. They'll try to play us against each other to get us to talk, but stick to your cover… You know nothing. I hired you to take the boy for a ride, that's it. Understood?" Reluctantly, Kensi nodded.

"I cut you free," she said cautiously. "They'll notice." Callen sighed. It was done now and couldn't be helped.

"Hide the knife," he told her. "They'll search you. Don't let them find it." He looked on in satisfaction as Kensi found a safe hiding place for their only weapon.

 _NCIS:LA_

Disorientated with pain and rising exhaustion in part caused by blood loss, Sam was starting to wonder if Deeks was right about them going round in circles. But the horses seemed happy enough to keep moving. They had tried earlier to trot, hoping to get to Los Mochis - or wherever they might be headed - sooner, but the bouncy gait had caused Deeks to turn alarmingly grey and almost slide off, between his broken ribs and his concussion, and Sam had abruptly hauled both animals to a halt, reaching over to grab the half-conscious detective and prevent him from falling to the ground.

"Thanks," Deeks gasped, when he was able, and by silent mutual agreement they had nudged the horses on again in walk. Sam was starting to feel desperate at the slow pace, but in truth trotting had jarred his throbbing leg and revived the aching in his own head. The midday sun was hot which wasn't helping either of them, but they had at least been able to refill the bottles when the horses, driven by an enviable survival instinct, found water to drink.

"Well I'll be damned," Sam suddenly exclaimed, raising his hand to shield his eyes as he squinted into the distance.

"Everything okay?" Deeks asked warily.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's Turk's pick-up heading our way!" Sam pointed to the beat up, desert coloured truck barely identifiable in the cloud of dust blowing up in it's wake.

"You sure?" Deeks asked, cautious of another ambush.

"Can't see the driver yet," Sam admitted. "But it's definitely his car." They reined the horses in and stood still, knowing they were fairly well camouflaged as long as they stayed off the track and didn't cause attention by moving. As the pick up sped past them, Sam made out the outline of Arlo Turk alone in the driver's seat, and he urged his horse out of the bushes and onto the track behind the car. The car slowed, came to a halt and reversed level with him, eventually disgorging a disbelieving Turk who looked Sam up and down with a mixture of relief amidst the sullenness they'd come to expect from the man.

"Boy are we glad to see you!" Deeks exclaimed, joining Sam.

"How the hell did you know to look for us?" Sam asked, as Turk came to take the heads of the horses while the two men unsteadily dismounted.

"I've had Hetty on the phone since yesterday," Turk responded grumpily. "Something about a satellite and four people moving away from the site of the crash. She's insisted I drive up and down out here trying to locate you all. So, here I am. Where are the other two?"

 _NCIS:LA_

After their talk, Callen laid down on the floor, trying to distance himself from the throbbing pain in his arm and the burning of the skin over his stomach. Kensi passed him his shirt back to use as a pillow, and sat staring at him for a while, not liking what he was trying to do for her, but she knew he was right and things would get a lot worse if the Mexicans knew they had any regard for each other. She hoped she could trust herself not to react if Callen was interrogated again in front of her. She didn't think she could watch in silence if they tried to burn him again, even though she knew she must. Eventually she moved to the other side of the room, putting a physical distance between them that she only hoped she could uphold.

Neither of them were prepared for Spencer Williams to try to get her to break first. His aura of power overwhelmed the room as he strode back in, his men already tasked to seize Kensi, pulling her up into a vice-like grip before either of them could react. Callen snapped his head up, but knew he would endanger her if he reacted too strongly and so he stayed quiet while Williams strode around her, yelling questions in angry English to which she responded tearfully that she didn't understand, she only spoke Spanish. Eventually he lost his temper and back-handed her hard across the cheek, knocking her sideways despite the two thickset Mexicans holding her firmly while she was questioned. Callen chose his moment to intervene.

"When are you going to believe me when I tell you she doesn't know anything?" he said lazily, hiding the horror and concern he felt to see Kensi hit so harshly. "I told you, she's just a stable girl I paid. She got the boy off the compound and then my friend and I took her horses and her truck and left her in the desert. She can't help you, she doesn't know anything. You're wasting your time." He held Williams' gaze firmly all the while, not allowing himself even a sideways glance at Kensi that Williams might interpret as concern for her, and use against them.

"Very well," Williams responded darkly. "Maybe I'll have some fun with her later… alone. She's a pretty little thing after all, even if she is of no help to me." Out of the corner of his eye, Callen saw Kensi shudder at the veiled threat. "Perhaps for now we should continue where we left off." Williams gave a nod to his men and Kensi was flung to the floor. The guards instead hauled Callen to his feet, two of them holding him roughly with his arms pinned behind him. "You will tell me," Williams continued, "Where my son is. If it's the last thing you do, you will tell me."


	9. Chapter 9

_It feels 'right' here, in this story based on a US tv show, to take a moment and reflect on the horrors of 9-11... 17 years ago, almost to the hour, that I first heard the news and watched the appalling events play out half way round the globe, yet touching so many people here with the raw terror of it. Half my lifetime ago, and yet something I will never forget. My thoughts are with all those whose lives were changed forever on that day xx_

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

Williams' interrogation of Callen seemed to last an eternity to Kensi, watching helplessly from where she'd been thrown to the floor. To her relief, Williams had nothing more than the muscle men's fists at his disposal, but their attentions on her team leader were enough for her to bear witness to, and did nothing to ease the lingering guilt she still felt. She started to worry that he would be beaten to death right there in front of her and amidst her fear for him she recognised and tried to shun a rising terror that she would be left on her own with these animals.

Apart from an occasional grunt or hiss, Callen was silent, doing his best not to make things worse for Kensi. After a short while, which felt much longer to both of them, Williams again decided he wasn't going to get any information out of Callen using fists alone. As he turned to the door, Kensi didn't have to pretend to shudder away from him, and he laughed evilly.

"Later, sweetheart, later," he promised. "After I find my son… it'll be your turn." He left to get further reinforcements, leaving Callen crumpling to a heap on the floor, bloodied and sore. Kensi rushed over to him, scanning him from head to toe, trying to ascertain if he'd suffered any life-threatening damage.

"Just more bruises," he reassured her croakily. He lifted his head to squint at the door. "Reckon we can attempt an escape?" Kensi looked at him, trying to ascertain if he was serious.

"Are you kidding?" she eventually asked. "We wouldn't get beyond the door!"

"Help me up," he ordered her, and somewhat helplessly she obeyed, trying not to touch his skin where he'd been burnt but feeling him wince as she held him in other places to help him clamber to his feet.

"Callen…." Kensi said desperately.

"Trust me?" He looked at her, experimentally freeing himself from her grasp. She nodded.

"You know I do," she replied hesitatingly.

"Good. Bang on the door. Tell them you're worried I've stopped breathing, you need help, and then stay out of the way. Don't engage them. I mean that." Callen moved behind the door. "I just need one of them in the room," he added, trying to reassure her. "Okay?"

"If you say so," she looked at him searchingly, a worried expression on her face, but he nodded, and she crossed to the door, crying and shouting in Spanish, acting up the scared young stable girl, pleading for help. It wasn't long before her efforts were rewarded by the sound of the door being unlocked and she stepped away from the door cowering against the wall and still pretending to cry as two burly guards pushed past her. Callen made his move on the first man, pushing himself off the wall so that his whole bodyweight slammed into the Mexican, throwing them both to the floor. They scrabbled, and Kensi winced as she saw the man's brutality towards her senior agent, desperate to intervene but reluctant to break the cover he had ordered her to maintain. Within seconds, the two men had subdued Callen, whipping some rope from their pockets which they used to secure his hands behind his back, and yelling angrily at Kensi they left the room, slamming the door and locking it hard behind them.

"What the hell was the point of that?!" Kensi exclaimed as she rushed over to where Callen lay gasping for breath on the floor. He grunted and tried to sit up, and seeing his intention she helped him, grasping his shoulders and gently tugging. He ended up leaning against the wall still trying to catch his breath, and she got up to go and retrieve the knife she'd hidden earlier.

"Wait," Callen huffed, and she turned to look at him. "Leave that… for now. Come here… quickly, before they come back." She crossed to him, curious, and ever more so when he moved to angle his left hip towards her. "The phone," he whispered. "In my underpants. Dial Ops, and hide it somewhere, quickly!"

Kensi coughed to cover her surprise, reaching with urgent but gentle hands to retrieve the cell phone he had lifted. Despite her care she brushed past the burn on his stomach and winced as he took a sharp intake of breath.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Doesn't… matter. Just make… the call." Kensi obeyed, her fingers trembling as she programmed in the number. Even before it was ringing she was moving across the room to hide the phone where they'd stashed the knife, underneath the deep heavy wooden wardrobe, with a gap that only just cleared the floor and only her narrow arms could reach to the darkest corners under it. She heard footsteps again in the corridor and she pushed the phone back as far as she could before hurrying back to cower again near the wall. Callen nodded his approval, and meeting his eyes she saw the nod was also a reminder to her, to keep her head down and try to stay out of trouble. She gave him a grim smile of understanding, not sure how much more she could stand to watch him take.

 _NCIS:LA_

The incoming call to Ops made Eric startle. He answered it, puzzled when no one spoke, but simultaneously running a trace, and he nearly fell off his chair when the trace started narrowing down the area to Mexico.

"Nell!" he yelled, keeping his eyes on the screen as the trace showed Sinaloa, the desert, the compound… "Nell!"

"What is it?" Nell burst into Ops breathlessly. She had been downstairs with Hetty, on the phone to Arlo Turk, almost crying with relief when she heard Sam and Deeks speaking to them both, alive, and more or less in one piece.

"Get Hetty! I've got a call coming in from an unknown mobile on Vasquez's compound…"

"Do you think…" Nell started excitedly, peering at the screen as she connected to Hetty's phone downstairs. In less than a minute Hetty was beside them and they all three tried to make sense of the audio feed they were hearing.

 _"So, we start over…"_ A loud voice echoed.

"That's Spencer Williams isn't it?" Nell whispered. They waited silently, each trying not to get their hopes up. They heard Williams start to interrogate someone, demanding to know where his son was, who had ordered him taken and why. The rising tidal wave of questions produced no flood of answers, only silence, and up in the quiet of the Ops centre all that could be heard was the heavy breathing indicating several people in a room, punctuated here and there by a grunt as noises that sounded like a fist meeting its target were the only identifiable sounds.

All three of them jumped when suddenly a female voice sounded loud, pleading, begging, speaking only in Spanish.

 _"¡Por favor no! no hagas esto! ¡Por favor!"_

"Oh, God, Kensi?" Nell whispered, aghast. They heard what sounded like a slap, and the voice abruptly stopped.

"She must be using the phone as a one-way," Eric said, his face pale as he heard the desperation in the disembodied voice that might be Kensi. He didn't speak much Spanish, but he could tell the voice was begging and he tried to remain detached as they continued to listen to the horrifying sounds they could now hear. In the background was quiet sobbing, and then a loud groan, followed by the female voice once again crying and begging for whatever was happening to be stopped.

 _"Stay out of the way!"_ They heard Williams command, his voice not sounding quite so close to them, and seconds later they heard a female voice try to suppress a blood-curdling scream.

 _"I've already told you, she doesn't know anything,"_ a male voice, heavily tinged with pain, panted flatly.

"Callen?" Eric said hopefully, turning to Hetty, and she nodded silently with a grim expression. She would recognise Callen's voice anywhere, though she fretted about how he sounded and wondered what on earth Williams was doing to her agent down there.

"If that's Callen, then it must be Kensi," Nell said, trying to be positive. "At least they're both alive…" She trailed off, knowing from the sounds they'd heard on the line that, with both agents at the mercy of Williams and Vasquez, neither were likely to be in good shape.

 _"But **you** do."_ They heard Williams state coldly.

 _"Maybe,"_ Callen's voice said. _"But I'm not telling you anything until you let her go."_

 _"So!"_ Williams boomed. _"You do care for this girl?"_

 _"Not really,"_ Callen spoke as if he were bored. _"Her screams are giving me a headache."_

 _"Gag her!"_ Williams ordered, and there was the sound of a scuffle, and then Williams once again speaking. _"Now, no more screams. You can tell me what you know."_ They heard Callen's voice lower, almost inaudible.

 _"I'll tell you…"_ For several long seconds, they could hear nothing, and they waited on tenterhooks, hardly daring to look at each other, straining to catch the slightest possible sound in the room. They all jumped again as they heard a loud groan, followed by a thud. Spencer Williams violently uttered a string of expletives and then there were the sounds of heavy boots echoing on a wooden floor, and finally a door slamming. And then silence.

 _NCIS:LA_

"Callen?" Kensi pulled the gag from her mouth and crawled across the room, tears in her eyes. "Oh, God, Callen!" She reached him, seeing with relief that he was still breathing, but passed out cold from what Williams had done to him. Rocking back on her heels she stuffed a fist in her mouth to prevent her vomiting at what she had witnessed, and eventually, breathing hard to calm herself down, she remembered the phone. She crawled across to the wardrobe, and stretched her arm under it, choking on a sob as she couldn't reach it, stretching further, finally clasping her trembling fingers around it with relief.

She pulled it out, and the line was still active. She held it to her ear.

"Hello?" she said shakily. "Is anyone there?"

"Ms Blye," Hetty's voice came calmly down the line. "It's good to hear your voice, my dear. Where are you?"

"We're in a room… in Vasquez's compound. Round the back of the main house." Kensi started to feel more composed now that she was able to talk to someone.

"By 'we', can we assume that Mr Callen is with you?"

"Yes," Kensi barely held on to her composure, choking back a sob.

"Alive?" Hetty asked with some trepidation, knowing that Kensi was rarely easily shaken.

"Yes, but, oh, God, Hetty!" Kensi paused, taking some deep breaths.

"It's okay, my dear. Talk to me," Hetty reassured her, feeling anything but calm as she waited for news of the man who was like a son to her.

"They burnt him, Hetty. They used a lighter, along his ribs… Each time Williams asked a question, and he didn't answer, they burnt him!" Nell and Eric gasped in revulsion, and Hetty had to dig deep to maintain her cool.

"And yourself, Ms Blye? How are you holding up?"

"I'm… I'm fine, Hetty." She paused, gathering herself. "Have you heard from Sam and Deeks? Did they make it to Los Mochis?"

"Sam and Deeks are both fine," Nell spoke, giving Hetty a few moments of quiet.

"Oh thank God!" Kensi exclaimed.

"Yes. They're on a chopper headed back up here. They'll be here within an hour. They're both dehydrated and pretty tired, from what I gather, but they're okay."

"Neither of them wanted to come home without you guys. You can imagine how that went down with Hetty," Eric said, trying for normalcy, smiling with relief as he heard Kensi make the faintest chuckle.

"They told us about Callen's plan, and we just hoped you'd contact us somehow," Nell continued. "We've already got a covert team heading your way, but it's going to be a few hours. Arlo Turk is going to coordinate from that end. We'll get you guys out soon," she said reassuringly, hoping she spoke the truth. Kensi's mouth was dry as she nodded and then realised the others on the phone couldn't see her.

"Thanks," she said. "Look… tell Deeks, when you can speak to him," she paused, not sure what she wanted to say. "Tell him… Well, just tell him I'm okay, will you?"

 _NCIS:LA_

"What's the… deal… with you and Deeks?" Kensi heard the faintest of voices from the floor and her eyes flew to Callen's face. His eyes were open, as much as they could be with the left one now even more bruised and swollen.

"Hey!" she said, tears of relief welling in her eyes.

"Who was on the phone?" His voice was a little stronger.

"Hetty. Eric and Nell. Shall I call them back?" Callen gave the tiniest shake of his head. He had a pounding headache from where he had head-butted Williams when he had enticed him in close enough by making him believe he was about to tell him the whereabouts of his son. It had been Williams' furious retaliation that had knocked him unconscious, though he wasn't sure he'd been far off blacking out anyway. The burns on his chest felt like they were still on fire.

"Hide it," he instructed her, and though she didn't want to move from his side, she obeyed, pushing the phone as far back into it's hiding pace as she could reach.

"How are you doing?" she asked, crossing back to him. He lifted his head and started to push himself up.

"Shit!" The pain from the burns almost took his breath away.

"Don't move," Kensi said worriedly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay," he said, eventually sitting so that he could look her level in the eyes. "How's your arm?"

"Callen!" Kensi almost sobbed, wondering why she was surprised that he held more concern for the single burn she had suffered on her arm when Williams had whipped round to silence her, than he gave over to his own welfare. She looked at the angry red burn marks running neatly along his ribs and winced. He shrugged.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"Five minutes, ten maybe. Not long…" She looked him over with concern. "Do you think they'll be back?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Callen said, hating the look he saw in her eyes.

"Callen, I…" Kensi swallowed. How could she say she wasn't sure how much more she could take? "Help is on the way," she said instead, her voice low. "Sam and Deeks, they made it, joined up with Turk. Hetty made them get on a chopper back to LA…" She couldn't hide the relief in her voice, and saw it reflected in Callen's eyes too. "Hetty has sent a covert team… but it's going to be a few hours before they get here."

"Okay," Callen said, shifting uncomfortably.

"What shall we do?" Callen thought for a moment, playing through possibilities in his head.

"I'll give Williams what he wants," he finally said.


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm so so so sorry for the delay in this next chapter! I don't know why it is when there's other problems in my life, my writing confidence goes through the floor..! I've had a hard time pulling this chapter together to move us towards the conclusion of this story, but here it is, and i hope my 'mojo' returns in full very soon! Thank you again for those still following and reviewing, it means a lot and I hope as we're winding down towards the end that it doesn't disappoint! I found it really hard to work in the thread I had wanted about the veiled threats to Kensi - turns out I feel even more uncomfortable writing about potential sexual abuse/rape than I do torture! Hopefully I have hinted at it enough to give readers an idea of the enormity of emotions Kensi and Callen were facing._

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

Kensi paced around the room, overcome with a sudden desire to move. Callen had shifted so that he was leaning against the wall and he watched her, understanding her accumulation of feelings. He might have joined her, if he wasn't trying to conserve his energy.

"Reckon it's lunchtime?" he asked lightly, trying to calm her down. She turned to him.

"What? Oh, right. Maybe?" Her internal clock was off, but squinting through the boards blocking the windows, it did look like the midday sun was high in the sky.

"Don't expect room service," Callen joked, and she raised half a smile. "Drink some water," Callen suggested, nodding his head to the bathroom door. Seeing the sense in it, Kensi obeyed and after she'd had her fill she returned with water cupped in her hands which she crouched down and held to his lips. He drank gratefully.

"I wish we had a cup," she said.

"At least we've got water," Callen reminded her, and Kensi considered the condition they'd be in without anything to drink, and nodded.

"What's the plan?" she asked, fractiously getting up again. She was finding the waiting harder to deal with than actually having Williams in the room with them. He was playing games with them she knew, and despite her best efforts it was getting to her. Williams' attentions had been fixed on Callen for now, but she couldn't help the ominous feeling that her turn would come. Reading at least a little of her thoughts, Callen spoke to reassure her.

"I won't let him hurt you," he said quietly, and she turned to face him, tears welling again in her eyes which she furiously brushed away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me. He's barely touched me, and…" Kensi gestured helplessly to Callen's burned torso which he had yet to summon the strength to cover again with his t-shirt.

"It's fine," Callen said, meaning it, holding her gaze calmly. "Honestly. I've had worse." He said it lightly, but Kensi abruptly realised there was more to his past than she knew about and she shuddered inwardly at the thought. Still, something in his voice soothed her and she took a deep breath and lowered herself to the floor, sitting opposite him and hugging her arms around her bent knees as she rested her forehead down to hide her face. "You doing okay?" she heard Callen ask her gently, and she knew without looking up that he was thinking of the time she had spent captive in Afghanistan. A time she hadn't spoken much about, but she realised now just how much he understood and in a strange way that gave her comfort. She shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said, raising a watery smile. "Tell me you have a plan?"

"Sort of," he told her, and he started to outline what he had in mind.

 _NCIS:LA_

"Sam!" Hetty exclaimed, only partially surprised to see the big man in front of her, leaning heavily on a cane. "It's good to see you back with us! But tell me why, _why_ , are you not in the hospital?"

"It's good to see you too, Hetty," Sam smiled disarmingly. "Eric said you'd made contact with G? Tell me there's a plan to get him out?"

"We heard earlier from Ms Blye," Hetty said carefully. "She is with Mr Callen." She watched Sam's face process the implications as she spoke.

"He's hurt?" It was a statement more than a question; an acceptance of the inevitable.

"I believe so. As," she emphasised firmly, "Are you... Have you even seen a doctor?"

"Hetty…" Sam was impatient. "The medic on the chopper patched me up. I'm fine. I came back to LA, just as you asked, but now you need to let me help my partner, and Kensi, get out of there safely."

"Very well," Hetty acquiesced, getting up resignedly to follow Sam as he limped up the stairs to Ops. "How is Mr Deeks?" she enquired.

"He's okay," Sam responded gruffly. "He passed out on the flight and got admitted when we landed at the hospital, but the Medevac doctor wasn't treating him as an emergency."

"And… emotionally?" Hetty probed gently. Sam turned to look at her, trying to assess how much she knew.

"He and Kensi will have a lot to catch up on," he answered eventually, and by then the two of them were entering the darkened Ops room and to Sam's relief Hetty didn't push the matter further.

"What progress, Mr Beale?" Hetty asked, gesturing to one of the analysts to give up their chair to Sam, and looking at him with an immutable expression until he surrendered and sat down.

"Our team are in Mexican airspace," Eric outlined. "We were hoping for another phone call from Kensi and Callen before we…"

"Hang on," Nell interrupted urgently. "That's the cell they had before incoming now!"

"Answer it, Ms Jones," Hetty instructed, and Sam held his breath, waiting to hear if it was indeed Callen at the end of the line, and if so how his partner was faring.

"Hetty?" They all breathed a sigh of relief at Callen's voice.

"I'm here, Mr Callen," Hetty said, the tiniest of lumps in her throat. For days now, she hadn't been sure she was going to hear his voice again. He sounded weary, but he cut straight to the point giving her no chance to enquire as to his health.

"Williams believes I've kidnapped Derrick, using Kensi as the local hired help. I'm hoping to use that to get us out of the compound. I assume we only have a small team coming?" They all knew a co-ordinated rescue attempt would raise too many repercussions and Callen had just been relieved that help of any kind was on its way and it wasn't down to him and Kensi to get themselves out of the compound and back to LA on their own.

"Five men in a military chopper," Hetty informed him. She had pulled as many strings as she could with Director Vance whilst trying not to give full disclosure on the unsanctioned mission. Mosley would have a lot to answer if she ever returned, but Hetty feared at the moment she was lying low somewhere with her son, and they would all be left to take the flack at least in the short term. "Arlo Turk has two SUVs ready…"

"No," Callen interrupted. "Don't land the chopper. Williams, Vasquez… this whole district is in bed with the cartel and the Federales. You land a military chopper, you might as well fly a flag to say we're coming. If this pans out, Kensi and I will leave the compound with just a small number of Williams' men. The chopper can pick us up and get out without anyone having to know about it until we're in the air."

"Very well," Hetty agreed. "Can you give us a location?"

"Not exactly," Callen responded.

"That's helpful," Sam muttered.

"Sam? You there?" Callen couldn't quite hide the surprise in his voice. "Are you and Deeks okay?"

"We're good," Sam replied shortly. "How are you guys doing down there?"

"We're looking forward to getting home," Callen admitted, an usual expression of his feelings. Hetty and Sam glanced at each other, hoping it wasn't an ominous sign. They desperately wanted the whole team back together on American soil so that they could start to put this mission behind them.

 _NCIS:LA_

Kensi seemed more settled once Callen had confirmed their plan with the team in LA and they knew help was coming. Callen felt relieved to see her more composed, not wanting her to suffer too badly in another hostage situation after all she had been through in the last couple of years. He had even raised a smile for himself hearing Sam's voice on the phone cautioning him to be careful, the concern clear even across the wires as they briefly conversed before hanging up to conserve the battery of the stolen cell phone. With the vagueness of the new exfil site, Callen wished they were able to remain in contact with Ops throughout but it had been reassuring for all of them to be able to communicate at all, and Callen was starting to feel cautiously optimistic that this might all soon be over. A lot still hinged on Williams going along with the plan he had outlined, but Callen was confident he and Kensi could pull it off even if it didn't quite play out as they had all discussed.

Feeling his strength returning, he looked up at Kensi and smiled encouragingly at her.

"You holding up okay?" he asked.

"I hate all this waiting," Kensi responded honestly. She estimated they had been left alone for at least an hour now, Callen's earlier joke about the guards going off to lunch seemingly not too far off the mark.

"Don't let it get to you," Callen told her.

"It's hard not to," she admitted. "Do you think it will work?" Callen was quiet for a moment.

"I think it's the best chance we've got," he finally replied, his calm honesty rattling her a little, but she was an experienced enough agent to know the situation they were in was going to be far from easy to extricate themselves from. They'd been relatively lucky so far, and she prayed their luck would hold out just a little longer.

Footsteps coming down the hall sounded deafeningly loud in their pensive quiet. Kensi looked wild-eyed at Callen and he held her gaze with a resolute calm. This was it.

The door was roughly unbolted and Williams strode in. His immense power hadn't diminished a bit, Callen noted. He was truly a fearful adversary, and unbidden, Callen's mind replayed his argument with Sam before they'd come to Mexico, about them parachuting into a custody battle. The more time he spent with Williams, the more he was glad they had gotten involved despite his reservations back home, and that Derrick was now safe with his mother. This man was no father. Callen kept his eyes lowered as Williams gave him a thorough inspection, seeing, Callen hoped, a man for the time being broken and weak, not worth bothering with.

Kensi shrank back against the wall as Williams turned to her, playing her part. If Williams felt complacent in his power over them both, they would be that little bit safer.

"You do know where my son is," Williams stated authoritatively, and Kensi cowered, shaking her head. She glanced furtively at Callen, and Williams saw it. "You do," he said again, his booming voice echoing in the silence. "Tell me!" Kensi spoke in rapid, terrified Spanish, keeping her eyes lowered from Williams' penetrating gaze. Williams looked between her and Callen in frustration. "Speak up!" he shouted, fury bunching his muscles ready to attack.

"She can't tell you," Callen spoke in a low voice, turning Williams' attention onto him. "She can't read a map. But she knows the land round here – she's offering to take you and show you where she left your son."


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you all so much for your comments on the previous chapter, and for joining me on this journey which has really pushed my writing to a new level. I hope you are happy with the final chapter._

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Barren.

Heat.

Dust.

Blood and sweat and thirst and hunger and exhaustion.

The only sounds were the ringing in his ears and his laboured breathing as they trudged through the desert; Callen and Kensi, Williams, and three Mexican guards, all of them following Kensi's lead.

Callen concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, sweat running down his brow and his hands bound awkwardly together in front of him causing his arms to rub agonisingly on his burnt body with every step.

The vast desert seemed endless, but Kensi led them steadily north, and Callen painfully followed. His arm, ribs, the burns; they all merged into one overwhelming pain.

For a terrifying few minutes, Williams' plan had been to take Kensi alone, leaving Callen locked up in the room at the compound for General Vasquez's men to deal with later. Kensi bit on her lip, trying not to look anxiously at Callen. He kept his expression blank, but with the cell phone already hidden in his sock they needed to both get out of the compound together. Williams conferred with the guard who had taken the lead on most of Callen's interrogations, and although Callen didn't like the sound of what they were discussing would happen to the two of them once Kensi had safely led Williams to his son, they at least decided in the end to take Callen with them.

The going was so tough, and the heat on top of his hunger and dehydration so intense, that at times Callen almost wished they had left him behind. He caught Kensi's eyes as she turned to gesture to a new track, and they shared a fleeting smile, so brief it barely got past their eyes, but it was enough to renew his resolve. They were both out, and outside they had a vestige of hope.

At the front, closely guarded by one of the Mexicans, Kensi wished that she was able to talk with Callen. She realised she had become so used to Deeks distracting her in tense situations with his jokes and his light-hearted banter that she found the lack of conversation and laughter disturbing. Now, with so many miles to cover, the oppressive silence weighed heavily on her, and she found her thoughts wandering to Deeks. Would he speak to her again after she ran off so ashamedly? Would he joke with her, laugh with her, love her again?

She worried too about Callen. He was physically struggling, as much as he tried to hide it on her behalf. She didn't doubt he would do what needed to be done, but at what further cost? The more Kensi thought about it, the more she wondered if the price of this mission was too high, for all of them. And that seemed odd, after Deeks had tried so hard to sway her out of going in the parking lot. She had been so resolute that this mission, off the books though it was, was something they had to do. Had they both been right?

Williams' harsh voice interrupted her thoughts.

"How much further?" he demanded abruptly.

Kensi stopped and looked helplessly at Callen, and he glanced at Williams who nodded his approval for Callen to step past him to get to her. Kensi turned away from Williams as if afraid of him, which didn't altogether take much acting, and whispered in Spanish to Callen. He hid a smile; she was asking him how he was doing.

"A little more this way," Callen turned to Williams, half raising his bound hands to gesture wearily along a narrow dirt track. They were trying to travel as due north as possible to close the gap between them and the incoming chopper as quickly as they could.

"I hope that neither of you are messing with me," Williams threatened, his face dark. "Where are we going?"

"There's some rocks, a little further north… a shelter. She left your son waiting there for me and my driver. I suggest we keep moving if you don't want him to spend another night out here on his own." Callen kept his voice level, but the underlying threat to his son's safety was enough and Williams kicked furiously at the ground, signalling for Kensi to again take the lead, separating her from Callen once more. They settled into their previous formation with Kensi up front, two Mexican guards followed by Williams and then Callen with the senior guard at the rear, relishing in his task of bullying Callen along if he dropped pace. Callen felt the comforting awkwardness of the cell phone in his boot, tracking their progress for Ops to communicate to the helicopter team, and struggled on.

 _NCIS:LA_

Up in the darkened Ops centre, Sam once again asked Nell if it was possible to get satellite images. He desperately wanted to lay eyes on Callen, to see for himself that his partner was okay after finding out he had been hurt further at the hands of Vasquez and Williams.

"The answer is still no," Nell replied, sighing. She understood Sam's frustration, but there simply wasn't any way to get live satellite cover of the area. The best they could do was track the progress of the cell phone, and just hope that it was still with Callen and Kensi.

"We'll have a visual from the helo once they get closer," Eric came to Nell's aid, flashing the ground camera from the helicopter onto the screen. It was flying was over the desert now, and the sight of the rough terrain bouncing along the screen caused Sam to clench his jaw tighter. He hoped the small team of two pilots, two soldiers and a medic would be enough to pull off the kamikaze mission. "I estimate thirty minutes, if they both keep their current speeds," Eric continued, aiming to reassure, but thirty minutes seemed an intolerably long time. He started to zoom in on the images on the big screen for Sam, indicating the chopper's progress and that of the stolen cell. The distance between the two points was steadily closing. Sam started to get up off the chair to take a closer look, when the big doors to Ops opened.

"What's going on?" Deeks stood framed in the doorway for a second, crossing the room in three quick strides to look at the images on the screen. "What have you got up there? Is that Kensi? Is there a rescue mission in progress?"

"Deeks!" Sam exclaimed. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"

"Shouldn't you?" Deeks countered. "What are we looking at?"

Sighing, Eric started his explanation again, casting sideways glances at Deeks who couldn't or wouldn't stand still. He paced awkwardly, his hand occasionally going to his ribs and there was a slight reel to his gait which spoke of still unsteady legs.

"Take a seat," Sam gestured to the chair next to him, and running his hands through his hair, Deeks obeyed, not taking his eyes off the big screen that they all hoped would soon show the remaining two of their team being rescued.

 _NCIS:LA_

The muted sound of the chopper throbbing low on the horizon signified that the moment had come for Callen and Kensi to act. Fuelled by desperation at this, their only chance of escape, their sudden and unexpected actions took their enemies by surprise, and Kensi was quickly able to subdue the two guards nearest her. Callen took out Williams with a vicious elbow to the temple, leaving the tall man stunned and reeling as his knees buckled, but he had a harder time grappling with the thickset Mexican guard and he was aware of Kensi looking on helplessly while the two of them rolled over and over on the ground. Kensi drew her knife and clasped it tightly in her hand ready to intervene but she couldn't get an opening between the two fighting men. Callen hadn't given the Mexican time to reach for a weapon but the blows landing on him behind heavy fists made her wince and she prayed that Callen could hold out. Ducking under the whirlwind of air caused by the helicopter closing in to hover almost directly above them, Kensi looked up to see the side door open and two soldiers leaning out, guns at the ready. Long seconds seemed like an eternity before one of them had a shot, and Callen felt the bullet whistle past his ear, downing the Mexican guard once and for all.

Relief was premature while Williams and the other two guards were only temporarily incapacitated. With his hands still awkwardly tied and moving with a speed he didn't know he still had in him Callen struggled up and ran to Kensi, ushering her closer to the chopper. The helicopter was already rising as the soldiers lowered harnesses for them. Kensi helped Callen to fumble the straps over his head and under his arms and he did the same for her, but they didn't have time to fasten them properly before they were whisked up into the air, each grasping tightly to the ropes. Below them Williams was on his feet and furiously ordering the dazed Mexican guards to fire at the escaping agents but they were by now too high for the wildly aimed bullets to reach them. Dangling precariously below the helicopter, Callen and Kensi shared incredulous looks, not fully believing even as they were winched up and strong arms were pulling them in to relative safety that their plan had come together so smoothly. They tumbled into the belly of the chopper, groaning and panting hard from the adrenaline, and only then did Callen finally pass out.

When he became aware again, he realised he was lying on a stretcher in the helicopter, and he had the light-headed almost dream-like feeling that could only mean he'd been given a shot of morphine. He looked around urgently for Kensi and she was sitting next to him, one hand on his while the cut on her other arm was cleaned and dressed. She still looked dazed, he noted, or maybe it was him that was dazed. He blinked a few times, and the medic finished with Kensi and turned to him.

"Agent Callen?" the man enquired, bending low to speak with him over the noise of the engine, and Callen did his best to focus with eyes that remained slightly bleary. "We'll get you to a hospital when we land. I've stitched and dressed the wound on your leg, but those burns need proper attention." Callen realised his dirty, blood-stained t-shirt was off again, and instead most of his torso was covered with emergency burn dressings. "Your left wrist is broken, did you know? I've splinted it but it'll need an xray and a cast." Callen looked down to where his left arm was now free from ropes but held immobile in a padded splint. "How's the pain?"

"What pain?" Callen asked tiredly, drifting on the morphine. The medic smiled.

"Get some rest. We've got a couple of hours to go."

 _NCIS:LA_

Callen slept the drug-induced dreamless sleep of the dead for an hour, and when he woke again Kensi was sitting opposite him, leaning back against the side of the chopper. He shifted uncomfortably, pushing himself up so that he too was seated, and for a while they both looked at each other without speaking.

"Are you okay?" Callen eventually mouthed, and she smiled and nodded, but it didn't reach her eyes and Callen could feel the sadness emanating from her. He picked up his headset and gestured for her to do the same so they could talk. "Has anyone updated Ops?" he asked, and Kensi nodded again. The pilot had radioed through with the news of their safe extraction; cold, unemotional details which wouldn't be enough to put at rest the minds of the anxiously waiting team back home. "Ring them," Callen whispered. "Speak to him." Kensi choked on the lump in her throat, but she asked one of the soldiers to get Ops through on the comms and Callen tuned in and out as Kensi connected with first Eric and then Hetty, relief clear in both their voices to hear from her directly, and finally she asked to speak to Deeks.

"Hey baby!" Deeks couldn't hide the emotion in his voice.

"Hey," Kensi replied, and she didn't immediately trust her voice to say any more. After a moment of silence the words started to tumble out. "Deeks, I… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I left you. Are you okay? I didn't mean to run off…" Deeks interrupted her.

"Sshhh, baby, it's okay. I'm okay. You're okay too, right? They didn't hurt you…?"

"I'm good, Deeks," Kensi whispered, her wide eyes on Callen, unfocused, looking right through him to a different sort of hurt.

"Then it's all okay. You're coming home, and we'll talk when you get back, okay? We'll talk… but it doesn't matter, you're okay, that's all that matters. I just want you home. I love you."

Callen leant his dull and aching head back, welcoming the headset which reduced the noise of the engine to a manageable throb. Eyes half open, he watched Kensi talking with Deeks. They had a lot to repair, but they were talking… They'd be okay.

He'd catch up with Sam soon. After they landed, they could catch up. Sam would give him a hard time for getting beaten up again. Did this count as Sam saving his ass, or him saving Sam's? No doubt Sam, and Hetty too, would personally escort him to the nearest hospital as soon as they touched the ground. Sam would count that a save. Maybe he'd give it to the big guy, just to save the arguments. He was too tired. Sam would smile, and pretend all along that he'd known Callen's plan would work out just fine, no need to worry, as if none of them had stared death in the face and defeated it. They could all call that a win, but he'd let Sam have it. It would be good to see him smile again. To see all his team smiling again.

Kensi hung up, and Callen noticed a single tear stray down her cheek. She caught him looking at her and tried to surreptitiously wipe the tear away. He raised a tired lop-sided smile.

"It's over," he murmured into the headset to her. "All over. We're going home." And as if she hadn't fully believed it until Callen had spoken the words aloud, Kensi smiled back, the first true smile to have graced her face in days. They'd got out. They'd all got out, alive. All going home. No one left behind.

* * *

 _A/N - I realise this is a bit unpopular, but this was the ending!_

 _I'm considering a short Epilogue - but with the new season imminent (so excited!) I am going to leave the actual show writers to fix what they broke, particularly with regards to Kensi and Deeks' relationship..._

 _I do have a new Callen and Sam story in the pipeline, which I will start publishing once I have finished_ A Promise Made.

 _Thank you once again for reading, reviewing and hopefully enjoying my story :-)_


	12. Chapter 12

_I am too kind! ;-) (I'm also toooooooo impatient for the new season! HOW exciting do the sneak peaks look?!)_

 _Updated editor's note: Sorry! I've come back to fanfic after a year, attempting to start a new story. And I realised I had spelt Mosley's name wrong throughout my stories... It was bugging me... Like an idiot I deleted this chapter instead of just editing it, so I haven't re-posted anything new, sorry!_

* * *

 **EPILOGUE**

 _ ***Two Weeks Later***_

Sam whistled as he drove, enjoying the freedom of being out by himself again. He never thought he'd take driving for granted, and being grounded as he had the past two weeks had been a trial in more ways than one. But now, his leg was almost fully healed and the scrapes and bruises, along with his concussion, were just a memory. A memory he was happy to put behind him.

He was on his way to collect his partner from the specialist burns hospital, and bring him home. True to form, Callen had shunned all contact from his team once he and Kensi had arrived safely back in LA, preferring to lick his wounds in private. Sam had spent only a short time with him when they were all reunited at the hospital, but Callen had been so tired and drugged up by that point Sam wasn't sure his partner would have any recollection of their meeting, and they certainly hadn't had a chance to talk. By the following morning, Callen had been transferred, and that was that.

Only Hetty had once managed to get past the defences Callen had put in place to avoid seeing anyone. Sam had tried to glean information from her when she returned, but she had been even more reticent than usual, preoccupied with thoughts she wasn't sharing. In the end Sam had had to concede defeat. So, at last, he was pleased to finally be able to see his partner, awake and talking. It felt like it had been a long time.

Callen was in his hospital room packing his few things into a bag on his bed. He looked up when he heard Sam in the hallway and flashed a quick smile before returning to his task. His movements were cautious, and if Sam didn't know any better he'd have said Callen looked slightly embarrassed.

"Did you miss me?" Sam said lightly, walking across to the bed and taking over Callen's clumsy folding. His partner's left arm bore a cast from his elbow to his fingers.

"It's been quiet…" Callen half-joked, looking Sam up and down. "No cane… Leg all okay?"

"Good as new. Well, almost." Sam paused, but he couldn't stop himself from asking, "How are you doing?"

"Temporarily benched," Callen replied with a scowl, lifting his left arm.

"You're right-handed. You'll be back in the field soon enough," Sam said reassuringly. "Hetty said you were coming back on desk duty on Monday?" Callen heard the question in Sam's voice.

"The burns are healing, Sam." His turn to reassure. He finally met and held Sam's gaze, and if there was anything other than calm acceptance for what he had been through in his eyes, Sam couldn't see it. He nodded.

"Fair enough. You ready to get out of here?"

"You don't have to ask me twice." There was an undertone to Callen's voice that his casual words didn't quite cover, and Sam wondered again exactly what his partner had endured both at the hands of Spencer Williams and his men, and his subsequent medical treatment over the past two weeks. Kensi too had been unwilling to share what had happened in the time they were all apart, with Sam at least, though maybe she had opened up more to Deeks. Sam bit his tongue. He hated not knowing but had to trust that Callen would tell him more when he was ready, and to push now would only drive a wedge between them. He shouldered Callen's bag and the two of them walked companionably down the sterile halls.

Callen eased himself gingerly into the Challenger with a wince and left his seatbelt undone, which Sam noted but refrained from commenting on.

"Back to yours for pizza and beer?" Callen suggested, knowing Sam wouldn't be happy with just dropping him at his place. Sam's restraint in leaving him to heal from the worst of his wounds in peace at the burns hospital had been admirable, and now he owed the big man some time.

"Why not…" Sam chuckled, and appreciated Callen's perceptiveness. In his own way, Callen was nothing if not predictable.

"How are Kensi and Deeks doing?" Callen asked. He'd heard from Kensi a couple of time; vague texts, nothing much, but it had been good to know that she was okay. He hoped she and Deeks had managed to work things out.

"Yeah. Okay. Still talking. They went away together for the week. They've got a lot to sort out, but they'll be okay."

"Talking's good," Callen said vaguely.

"Yeah," Sam replied pointedly. "It is." Callen was silent for some time, and Sam wondered if his partner would ever open up about what had happened after they'd separated.

"Mosley still not been in touch?" Callen eventually asked.

"What do you think?"

"I think she's probably spending time with her son… Has Williams been found yet?"

"No," Sam sighed. "He's gone to ground somewhere."

"Damn," Callen said with unexpected feeling. Sam looked at him.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam. Keep your eyes on the road. I'm not in the mood for another crash," he smirked, and Sam grinned.

"Williams will show up again."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Callen muttered and when Sam raised an eyebrow at him, he continued. "Mosley and Derrick won't be safe while he's still at large." He hated to think everything he had put his team through could still yet be in vain, if Williams was not taken care of.

"I'm pretty sure Mosley's got it covered."

"I hope so," Callen sighed.

"She went through hell all those years without her son. I don't think she'll be letting him out of her sight now."

The setting sun burned like fire on the horizon and as he watched it sink into the darkness below Callen reflected on the fiery hell they had all been through to reunite mother and son. Everything he could do… A rash promise made at the end of a long day – but he'd meant it when he said it all those months ago, and he'd meant it again when it came to the crunch. It didn't stop him wishing his team hadn't got dragged along for the ride.

They pulled up in the marina car park, and Sam was still struggling to put his finger on what was off about Callen's mood.

"Are you sure you're okay, G?"

"I put you all in an impossible situation." It was easier to talk in the dark; to hide from Sam's penetrating stare. To hide from the guilt he felt.

"No, you didn't. We all knew what we were letting ourselves in for."

"I don't think any of us knew exactly what we were letting ourselves in for," Callen mumbled, vaguely aware of Sam's hand hovering hesitantly above his shoulder as they walked towards the boat.

"Come and have a couple of beers," Sam said lightly, dropping his hand onto Callen's shoulder in the briefest gesture of support as he resisted again the urge to shake the details out of his partner.

The boat was dark as the two men entered, and Sam carefully allowed Callen to step through the doorway first.

"Flick the lights," he said, fiddling with the door behind them, and half way down the narrow stairs, Callen reached back for the switch.

"Surprise!" His whole team were standing in the cramped living quarters. Nell and Eric… Kensi and Deeks… Hetty. Callen surveyed their faces smiling up at him and turned to Sam to cover his discomfort at being caught unawares.

"A couple of beers…?"

"Yeah… sorry." Above him, Sam spread his hands apologetically. Shaking his head, Callen descended, and in the small space it was Nell first, bouncing on her toes in her effort not to reach out and hug him, who whispered, "Welcome home!" Next to her, grinning widely, Eric took Callen's right hand and pumped it elatedly. Callen felt the dull sting of the burns under the bandages switch from awareness to agony and he pulled his hand from Eric's enthusiastic grip. He turned quickly away and hoped neither of them had seen the beads of sweat start to form on his brow. Running his hand over his face he realised he was looking into the concerned brown eyes of Kensi as she gently reached for his plastered wrist and held his hand in both of hers. Sam's boat really wasn't that big. He took a deep breath.

"Callen…" Kensi swallowed.

"Kens," he smiled reassuringly, but she hurried on.

"I want to thank you, again, for what you did back there…"

"Kens, it's fine," Callen interrupted.

"No, it's not. You know what Williams kept hinting at. I… I don't think I could have dealt with that…" She swallowed again. "You kept him distracted. So thank you. And I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Callen assured her, hoping she would believe him. He noticed for the first time Deeks standing protectively beside Kensi, a tight look on his face as he listened to their exchange. "Deeks… you good?"

"Better now," Deeks said flippantly, reaching out to clap Callen's shoulder, but dropping his hand before he made contact. Callen smirked as Deeks blushed, awkwardly muttering, "Sam never touches you… right… got it..."

"It's good to see you guys again," Callen said.

"And it is good to see you back with us, Mr Callen." Callen turned again, and standing next to Nell was Hetty, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"Hetty..!" Callen exclaimed. "You organised all this?"

"Oh I left the organising to Ms Jones," Hetty said with a slow smile, and Nell smiled too, apologetically.

"Well, thanks, I guess. Both of you."

"It is so nice to see you all together in the same room again," Hetty said, with the tiniest crack in her voice that only Callen noticed. He looked at her searchingly, and they shared an unspoken moment of gratitude before Hetty smiled and reached behind her for a glass of champagne. "You got them all home," she said quietly, so that only he could hear. He bowed his head but before he could protest she spoke louder. "Come now, Mr Callen," she said, handing him the glass, and the rest of the team followed her lead and gathered round. "This is a party! Everybody, drink up!"


End file.
